Jim  was  in  agony 


THE 

BROWN  MOUSE 


By 
HERBERT  QUICK 

Author  of 

ALADDIN  &  COMPANY,  THE  BROKEN  LANCE 
ON  BOARD  THE  GOOD  SHIP  EARTH,  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

JOHN  A.  COUGHLIN 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1915 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMEAHY 


Of 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  OO. 

BOOK  MANUFACTURfRB 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!" 1 

II  RETERSED  UNANIMITY 24 

III  WHAT  Is  A  BROWN  MOUSE 38 

IV  THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SCHOOL 48 

V  THE  PROMOTION  OF  JENNIE 55 

VI  JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD       ...  65 

VII  THE  NEW  WINE 75 

VIII  AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES 89 

IX  JENNIE  ARRANGES  A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY   .     .  99 

X  How  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP Ill 

XI  THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES 122 

XII  FACING  TRIAL 132 

XIII  FAME  OR  NOTORIETY 147 

XIV  THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD       .     .      .  164 
XV  A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE   .     .     .     .  188 

XVI  THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH 203 

XVII  A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER 218 

XVIII  JIM  GOES  TO  AMES 235 

XIX  JIM'S  WORLD  WIDEN  &       ......  242 

XX  THINK  OF  IT 248 

XXI  A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    ....  258 

XXII  AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE 277 

XXIII  AND  So  THEY  LIVED— 295 


THE  BROWN  MOUSE 


THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

CHAPTER  I 

A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH  !" 

A  FARM-HAND  nodded  in  answer  to  a  ques 
tion  asked  him  by  Napoleon  on  the  morn 
ing  of  Waterloo.  The  nod  was  false,  or  the 
emperor  misunderstood  —  and  Waterloo  was 
lost.  On  the  nod  of  a  farm-hand  rested  the 
fate  of  Europe. 

This  story  may  not  be  so  important  as  the 
battle  of  Waterloo — and  it  may  be.  I  think 
that  Napoleon  was  sure  to  lose  to  Wellington 
sooner  or  later,  and  therefore  the  words  "fate 
of  Europe"  in  the  last  paragraph  should  be 
understood  as  modified  by  "for  a  while."  But 
this  story  may  change  the  world  permanently. 
,We  will  not  discuss  that,  if  you  please.  What 
I  am  endeavoring  to  make  plain  is  that  this 
history  would  never  have  been  written  if  a 

1 


2  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

farmer's  daughter  had  not  said  "Humph!"  to 
her  father's  hired  man. 

Of  course  she  never  said  it  as  it  is  printed. 
People  never  say  "Humph !"  in  that  way.  She 
just  closed  her  lips  tight  in  the  manner  of  peo 
ple  who  have  %  great  deal  to  say  and  prefer 
not  to  say  it,  and — I  dislike  to  record  this  of 
a  young  lady  who  has  been  "off  to  school,"  but 
truthfulness  compels  —  she  grunted  through 
her  little  nose  the  ordinary  "Humph !"  of  con 
versational  commerce,  which  was  accepted  at 
its  face  value  by  the  farm-hand  as  an  evidence 
of  displeasure,  disapproval,  and  even  of  con 
tempt.  Things  then  began  to  happen  as  they 
never  would  have  done  if  the  maiden  hadn't 
"Humphed !"  and  this  is  a  history  of  those  hap 
penings. 

As  I  have  said,  it  may  be  more  important 
than  Waterloo.  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  was,  and 
I  hope— I  am  just  beginning,  you  know— to 
make  this  a  much  greater  book  than  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin.  And  it  all  rests  on  a  "Humph  I" 
Holmes  says, 

"Soft  is  the  breath  of  a  maiden's  'Yes/ 
Not  the  light  gossamer  stirs  with  less,"- 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  3 

but  what  bard  shall  rightly  sing  the  importance 
of  a  maiden's  "Humph !"  when  I  shall  have  fin 
ished  telling  what  came  of  what  Jennie  Wood 
ruff  said  to  Jim  Irwin,  her  father's  hired  man? 

Jim  brought  from  his  day's  work  all  the  fra 
grances  of  next  year's  meadows.  He  had  been 
feeding  the  crops.  All  things  have  opposite 
poles,  and  the  scents  of  the  farm  are  no  excep 
tion  to  the  rule.  Just  now,  Jim  Irwin  possessed 
in  his  clothes  and  person  the  olfactory  pole  op 
posite  to  the  new-mown  hay,  the  fragrant  but 
ter  and  the  scented  breath  of  the  lowing  kine — 
perspiration  and  top-dressing. 

He  was  not  quite  so  keenly  conscious  of  this 
as  was  Jennie  Woodruff.  Had  he  been  so,  the 
glimmer  of  her  white  pique  dress  on  the  bench 
under  the  basswood  would  not  have  drawn  him 
back  from  the  gate.  He  had  come  to  the  house 
to  ask  Colonel  Woodruff  about  the  farm  work, 
and  having  received  instructions  to  take  a 
team  and  join  in  the  road  work  next  day,  he 
had  gone  down  the  walk  between  the  beds  of 
four  o'clocks  and  petunias  to  the  lane.  Turn 
ing  to  latch  the  gate,  lie  saw  through  the  dusk 
the  white  dress  under  the  tree  and  drawn  by 


4  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  greatest  attraction  known  in  nature,  had  re* 
entered  the  Woodruff  grounds  and  strolled 
back. 

A  brief  hello  betrayed  old  acquaintance,  and 
that  social  equality  which  still  persists  in  theory 
between  the  work  people  on  the  American 
farm  and  the  family  of  the  employer.  A  desul 
tory  murmur  of  voices  ensued.  Jim  Irwin  sat 
down  on  the  bench — not  too  close,  be  it  ob 
served,  to  the  pique  skirt.  .  .  .  There  came 
into  the  voices  a  note  of  deeper  earnestness, 
betokening  something  quite  aside  from  the  rip 
pling  of  the  course  of  true  love  running 
smoothly.  In  the  man's  voice  was  a  tone  of 
protest  and  pleading.  .  .  . 

"I  know  you  are,"  said  she;  "but  after  all 
these  years  don't  you  think  you  should  be  at 
least  preparing  to  be  something  more  than 
that?" 

"What  can  I  do?"  he  pleaded.  "I'm  tied 
hand  and  foot.  ...  I  might  have  .  .  ." 

"You  might  have,"  said  she,  "but,  Jim, 
you  haven't  ...  and  I  don't  see  any  pros 
pects.  .  .  ." 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  5 

"I  have  been  writing  for  the  farm  papers," 
said  Jim;  "but  .  .  ." 

"But  that  doesn't  get  you  anywhere,  you 
know.  .  .  .  You're  a  great  deal  more  able  and 

intelligent  than  Ed and  see  what  a  fine 

position  he  has  in  Chicago.  .  .  ." 

"There's  mother,  you  know,"  said  Jim  gently. 

"You  can't  do  anything  here,"  said  Jennie. 
"You've  been  a  farm-hand  for  fifteen  years 
.  .  .  and  you  always  will  be  unless  you  pull 
yourself  loose.  Even  a  girl  can  make  a  place 
for  herself  if  she  doesn't  marry  and  leaves  the 
farm.  You're  twenty-eight  years  old." 

"It's  all  wrong!"  said  Jim  gently.  "The 
farm  ought  to  be  the  place  for  the  best  sort 
of  career — I  love  the  soil !" 

"I've  been  teaching  for  only  two  years,  and 
they  say  I'll  be  nominated  for  county  superin 
tendent  if  I'll  take  it.  Of  course  I  won't— it 
seems  silly — but  if  it  were  you,  now,  it  would 
be  a  first  step  to  a  life  that  leads  to  some 
thing." 

"Mother  and  I  can  live  on  my  wages — and 
the  garden  and  chickens  and  the  cow,"  said 


6  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Jim.  "After  I  received  my  teacher's  certifi 
cate,  I  tried  to  work  out  some  way  of  doing 
the  same  thing  on  a  country  teacher's  wages. 
I  couldn't.  It  doesn't  seem  right." 

Jim  rose  and  after  pacing  back  and  forth 
sat  down  again,  a  little  closer  to  Jennie.  Jen 
nie  moved  away  to  the  extreme  end  of  the 
bench,  and  the  shrinking  away  of  Jim  as  if  he 
had  been  repelled  by  some  sort  of  negative  mag 
netism  showed  either  sensitiveness  or  temper. 

"It  seems  as  if  it  ought  to  be  possible,"  said 
Jim,  "for  a  man  to  do  work  on  the  farm,  or 
in  the  rural  schools,  that  would  make  him  a 
livelihood.  If  he  is  only  a  field-hand,  it  ought 
to  be  possible  for  him  to  save  money  and  buy  a 
farm." 

"Pa's  land  is  worth  two  hundred  dollars  an 
acre,"  said  Jennie.  "Six  months  of  your  wages 
for  an  acre — even  if  you  lived  on  nothing." 

"No,"  he  assented,  "it  can't  be  done.  And 
the  other  thing  can't,  either.  There  ought  to 
be  such  conditions  that  a  teacher  could  make  a 
living." 

"They  do,"  said  Jennie,  "if  they  can  live  at 
home  during  vacations.  /  do." 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  7 

"But  a  man  teaching  in  the  country  ought 
to  be  able  to  marry." 

"Marry!"  said  Jennie,  rather  unfeelingly,  I 
think.  "You  marry!"  Then  after  remaining 
silent  for  nearly  a  minute,  she  uttered  the 
syllable — without  the  utterance  of  which  this 
narrative  would  not  have  been  written.  "You 
marry !  Humph !" 

Jim  Irwin  rose  from  the  bench  tingling  with 
the  insult  he  found  in  her  tone.  They  had  been 
boy-and-girl  sweethearts  in  the  old  days  at  the 
Woodruff  schoolhouse  down  the  road,  and  be 
fore  the  fateful  time  when  Jennie  went  "off  to 
school"  and  Jim  began  to  support  his  mother. 
They  had  even  kissed  —  and  on  Jim's  side, 
lonely  as  was  his  life,  cut  off  as  it  necessarily 
was  from  all  companionship  save  that  of  his 
tiny  home  and  his  fellow-workers  of  the  field, 
the  tender  little  love-story  was  the  sole  ro 
mance  of  his  life.  Jennie's  "Humph !"  retired 
this  romance  from  circulation,  he  felt.  It 
showed  contempt  for  the  idea  of  his  marrying. 
It  relegated  him  to  a  sexless  category  with 
other  defectives,  and  badged  him  with  the  celi 
bacy  of  a  sort  of  twentieth-century  monk,  with" 


8  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

out  the  honor  of  the  priestly  vocation.  From 
another  girl  it  would  have  been  bad  enough, 
but  from  Jennie  Woodruff — and  especially  on 
that  quiet  summer  night  under  the  linden— it 
was  insupportable. 

"Good  night,"  said  Jim — simply  because  he 
could  not  trust  himself  to  say  more. 

"Good  night,"  replied  Jennie,  and  sat  for  a 
long  time  wondering  just  how  deeply  she  had 
unintentionally  wounded  the  feelings  of  her 
father's  field-hand;  deciding  that  if  he  was 
driven  from  her  forever,  it  would  solve  the 
problem  of  terminating  that  old  childish  love 
affair  which  still  persisted  in  occupying  a  suite 
of  rooms  all  of  its  own  in  her  memory;  and 
finally  repenting  of  the  unpremeditated  thrust 
which  might  easily  have  hurt  too  deeply  so 
sensitive  a  man  as  Jim  Irwin.  But  girls  are 
not  usually  so  made  as  to  feel  any  very  bitter 
remorse  for  their  male  victims,  and  so  Jennie 
slept  very  well  that  night. 

Great  events,  I  find  myself  repeating,  some 
times  hinge  on  trivial  things.  Considered 
deeply,  all  those  matters  which  we  are  wont  to 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  9 

call  great  events  are  only  the  outward  and  visi 
ble  results  of  occurrences  in  the  minds  and 
souls  of  people.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  thought 
of  laying  his  cloak  under  the  feet  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  as  she  passed  over  a  mud-puddle,  and 
all  the  rest  of  his  career  followed,  as  the  effect 
of  Sir  Walter's  mental  attitude.  Elias  Howe 
thought  of  a  machine  for  sewing,  Eli  Whitney 
of  a  machine  for  ginning  cotton,  George  Steph- 
enson  of  a  tubular  boiler  for  his  locomotive  en 
gine,  and  Cyrus  McCormick  of  a  sickle-bar,  and 
the  world  was  changed  by  those  thoughts, 
rather  than  by  the  machines  themselves.  John 
D.  Rockefeller  thought  strongly  that  he  would 
be  rich,  and  this  thought,  and  not  the  Standard 
Oil  Company,  changed  the  commerce  and 
finance  of  the  world.  As  a  man  thinketii  so 
is  he;  and  as  men  think  so  is  the  world.  Jim 
Irwin  went  home  thinking  of  the  "Humph  I"  of 
Jennie  Woodruff — thinking  with  hot  waves  and 
cold  waves  running  over  his  body,  and  swell 
ings  in  his  throat.  Such  thoughts  centered  upon 
his  club  foot  made  Lord  Byron  a  great  sar 
donic  poet.  That  club  foot  set  him  apart 


10  THE  BKOWN  MOUSE 

from  the  world  of  boys  and  tortured  him  into 
a  fury  which  lasted  until  he  had  lashed  society 
with  the  whips  of  his  scorn. 

Jim  Irwin  was  not  club-footed;  far  from  it. 
He  was  bony  and  rugged  and  homely,  with  a 
big  mouth,  and  wide  ears,  and  a  form  stooped 
with  labor.  He  had  fine,  lambent,  gentle  eyes 
which  lighted  up  his  face  when  he  smiled,  as 
Lincoln's  illuminated  his.  He  was  not  ugly. 
In  fact,  if  that  quality  which  fair  ladies — if 
they  are  wise — prize  far  more  than  physical 
beauty,  the  quality  called  charm,  can  with  pro 
priety  be  ascribed  to  a  field-hand  who  has  just 
finished  a  day  of  the  rather  unfragrant  labor 
to  which  I  have  referred,  Jim  Irwin  possessed 
charm.  That  is  why  little  Jennie  Woodruff 
had  asked  him  to  help  with  her  lessons,  rather 
oftener  than  was  necessary,  in  those  old  days 
in  the  Woodruff  schoolhouse  when  Jennie  wore 
her  hair  down  her  back. 

But  in  spite  of  this  homely  charm  of  per 
sonality,  Jim  Irwin  was  set  off  from  his  fel 
lows  of  the  Woodruff  neighborhood  in  a  man 
ner  quite  as  segregative  as  was  Byron  by  his 
deformity.  He  was  different  In  local  par* 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH !"  11 

lance,  he  was  an  off  ox.  He  was  as  odd  as 
Dick's  hatband.  He  ran  in  a  gang  by  himself, 
like  Deacon  Avery's  celebrated  bull.  He  failed 
to  matriculate  in  the  boy  banditti  which  played 
cards  in  the  haymows  on  rainy  days,  told 
stereotyped  stories  that  smelled  to  heaven, 
raided  melon  patches  and  orchards,  swore  hor 
ribly  like  Sir  Toby  Belch,  and  played  pool  in 
the  village  saloon.  He  had  always  liked  to 
read,  and  had  piles  of  literature  in  his  attic 
room  which  was  good,  because  it  was  cheap. 
Yery  few  people  know  that  cheap  literature  is 
very  likely  to  be  good,  because  it  is  old  and  un 
protected  by  copyright.  He  had  Emerson, 
Thoreau,  a  John  B.  Alden  edition  of  Cham 
bers'  Encyclopedia  of  English  Literature,  some 
Franklin  Square  editions  of  standard  poets  in 
paper  covers,  and  a  few  Ruskins  and  Carlyles 
< — all  read  to  rags.  He  talked  the  book  Eng 
lish  of  these  authors,  mispronouncing  many  of 
the  hard  words,  because  he  had  never  heard 
them  pronounced  by  any  one  except  himself, 
and  had  no  standards  of  comparison.  You  find 
this  sort  of  thing  in  the  utterances  of  self-edu 
cated  recluses.  And  he  had  piles  of  reports  of 


12  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  secretary  of  agriculture,  college  bulletins 
from  Ames,  and  publications  of  the  various  bu 
reaus  of  the  Department  of  Agriculture  at 
Washington.  In  fact,  he  had  a  good  library  of 
publications  which  can  be  obtained  gratis,  or 
very  cheaply — and  he  knew  their  contents.  He 
had  a  personal  philosophy,  which  while  it  had 
cost  him  the  world  in  which  his  fellows  lived, 
had  given  him  one  of  his  own,  in  which  he 
moved  as  lonely  as  a  cloud,  and  as  untouched  of 
the  life  about  him. 

He  seemed  superior  to  the  neighbor  boys, 
and  felt  so ;  but  this  feeling  was  curiously  min 
gled  with  a  sense  of  degradation.  By  every 
test  of  common  life,  he  was  a  failure.  His 
family  history  was  a  badge  of  failure.  People 
despised  a  man  who  was  so  incontestably 
smarter  than  they,  and  yet  could  do  no  better 
with  himself  than  to  work  in  the  fields  along 
side  the  tramps  and  transients  and  hoboes  who 
drifted  back  and  forth  as  the  casual  market  for 
labor  and  the  lure  of  the  cities  swept  them. 
Save  for  his  mother  and  their  cow  and  garden 
and  flock  of  fowls  and  their  wretched  little 
rented  house,  he  was  a  tramp  himself. 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  13 

His  father  had  been  no  better.  He  had  come 
into  the  neighborhood  from  nobody  knows 
where,  selling  fruit  trees,  with  a  wife  and  baby 
in  his  old  buggy — and  had  died  suddenly,  leav 
ing  the  baby  and  widow,  and  nothing  else  save 
the  horse  and  buggy.  That  horse  and  buggy 
were  still  on  the  Irwin  books  represented  by 
Spot  the  cow — so  persistent  are  the  assets  of 
cautious  poverty.  Mrs.  Irwin  had  labored 
in  kitchen  and  sewing  room  until  Jim  had 
been  able  to  assume  the  breadwinner's  burden 
— which  he  did  about  the  time  he  finished  the 
curriculum  of  the  Woodruff  District  school. 
He  was  an  off  ox  and  odd  as  Dick's  hatband, 
largely  because  his  duties  to  his  mother  and 
his  love  of  reading  kept  him  from  joining  the 
gangs  whereof  I  have  spoken.  His  duties,  his 
mother,  and  his  father's  status  as  an  outcast 
were  to  him  the  equivalent  of  the  Byronic  club 
foot,  because  they  took  away  his  citizenship  in 
Boyville,  and  drove  him  in  upon  himself,  and, 
at  first,  upon  his  school  books  which  he  mas 
tered  so  easily  and  quickly  as  to  become  the 
star  pupil  of  the  Woodruff x  District  school,  and 
later  upon  Emerson,  Thoreau,  Ruskin  and  tht 


14  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

poets,  and  the  agricultural  reports  and 
bulletins. 

All  this  degraded — or  exalted — him  to  the 
position  of  an  intellectual  farm-hand,  with  a 
sense  of  superiority  and  a  feeling  of  degrada 
tion.  It  made  Jennie  Woodruff's  "Humph!" 
potent  to  keep  him  awake  that  night,  and  send 
him  to  the  road  work  with  Colonel  Woodruff's 
team  next  morning  with  hot  eyes  and  a  hotter 
heart. 

What  was  he  anyhow?  And  what  could  he 
ever  be?  What  was  the  use  of  his  studies  in 
farming  practise,  if  he  was  always  to  be  an 
underling  whose  sole  duty  was  to  carry  out  the 
crude  ideas  of  his  employers?  And;  what 
chance  was  there  for  a  farm-hand  to  become  a 
farm  owner,  or  even  a  farm  renter,  especially 
if  he  had  a  mother  to  support  out  of  the 
twenty-five  or  thirty  dollars  of  his  monthly 
wages?  None. 

A  man  might  rise  in  the  spirit,  but  how 
about  rising  in  the  world? 

Colonel  Woodruff's  gray  percherons  seemed 
to  feel  the  unrest  of  their  driver,  for  they 
fretted  and  actually  executed  a  clumsy  pranco 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  15 

as  Jim  Irwin  pulled  them  up  at  the  end  of  the 
turnpike  across  Bronson's  Slew — the  said  slew 
being  a  peat-marsh  which  annually  offered  the 
men  of  the  Woodruff  District  the  opportunity 
to  hold  the  male  equivalent  of  a  sewing  circle 
while  working  out  their  road  taxes,  with  much 
conversational  gain,  and  no  great  damage  to 
the  road. 

In  fact,  Columbus  Brown,  the  pathmaster, 
prided  himself  on  the  Bronson  Slew  Turnpike 
as  his  greatest  triumph  in  road  engineering. 
The  work  consisted  in  hauling,  dragging  and 
carrying  gravel  out  on  the  low  fill  which  car 
ried  the  road  across  the  marsh,  and  then  watch 
ing  it  slowly  settle  until  the  next  summer. 

"Haul  gravel  from  the  east  gravel  bed,  Jim," 
called  Columbus  Brown  from  the  lowest  spot 
in  the  middle  of  the  turnpike.  "Take  Newt 
here  to  help  load." 

Jim  smiled  his  habitual  slow,  gentle  smile  at 
Newton  Bronson,  his  helper.  Newton  was  sev 
enteen,  undersized,  tobacco-stained,  profane 
and  proud  of  the  fact  that  he  had  once  beaten 
his  way  from  Des  Moines  to  Faribault  on 
freight  trains.  A  source  of  anxiety  to  his 


16  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

father,  and  the  subject  of  many  predictions 
that  he  would  come  to  no  good  end,  Newton 
was  out  on  the  road  work  because  he  was  likely 
to  be  of  little  use  on  the  farm.  Clearly,  New 
ton  was  on  the  downward  road  in  a  double 
sense — and  yet,  Jim  Irwin  rather  liked  him. 

"The  fellers  have  put  up  a  job  on  you,  Jim," 
volunteered  Newton,  as  they  began  filling  the 
wagon  with  gravel. 

"What  sort  of  job?"  asked  Jim. 

"They're  nominating  you  for  teacher,"  re 
plied  Newton. 

"Since  when  has  the  position  of  teacher  been 
an  elective  office?"  asked  Jim. 

"Sure,  it  ain't  elective,"  answered  Newton. 
"But  they  say  that  with  as  many  brains  as 
you've  got  sloshing  around  loose  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  you're  a  candidate  that  can  break  the 
deadlock  in  the  school  board." 

Jim  shoveled  on  silently  for  a  while,  and  by 
example  urged  Newton  to  earn  the  money 
credited  to  his  father's  assessment  for  the  day's 
work. 

"Aw,  what's  the  use  of  diggin'  into  it  like 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  17 

this?"  protested  Newton,  who  was  developing 
an  unwonted  perspiration.  "None  of  the  others 
are  heatin'  themselves  up." 

"Don't  you  get  any  fun  out  of  doing  a  good 
day's  work?"  asked  Jim. 

"Fun!"  exclaimed  Newton.    "You're  crazy!" 

A  slide  of  earth  from  the  top  of  the  pit 
threatened  to  bury  Newton  in  gravel,  sand  and 
good  top  soil.  A  sweet-clover  plant  growing 
rankly  beside  the  pit,  and  thinking  itself  per 
fectly  safe,  came  down  with  it,  its  dark  green 
foliage  anchored  by  the  long  roots  which  pene 
trated  to  a  depth  below  the  gravel  pit's  bottom. 
Jim  Irwin  pulled  it  loose  from  its  anchorage, 
and  after  looking  attentively  at  the  roots,  laid 
the  whole  plant  on  the  bank  for  safety. 

"What  do  you  want  of  that  weed?"  asked 
Newton. 

Jim  picked  it  up  and  showed  him  the  nodules 
on  its  roots — little  white  knobs,  smaller  than 
pinheads. 

"Know  what  they  are,  Newt?" 

"Just  white  specks  on  the  roots,"  replied 
Newton. 


18  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"The  most  wonderful  specks  in  the  world," 
said  Jim.  "Ever  hear  of  the  use  of  nitrates  to 
enrich  the  soil?" 

"Ain't  that  the  stuff  the  old  man  used  on  the 
lawn  last  spring?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jim,  "your  father  used  some  on 
his  lawn.  We  don't  put  it  on  our  fields  in 
Iowa — not  yet ;  but  if  it  weren't  for  those  white 
specks  on  the  clover-roots,  we  should  be  obliged 
to  do  so — as  they  do  back  east." 

"How  do  them  white  specks  keep  us  from 
needin'  nitrates?" 

"It's  a  long  story,"  said  Jim.  "You  see,  be 
fore  there  were  any  plants  big  enough  to  be 
visible — if  there  had  been  any  one  to  see  them 
— the  world  was  full  of  little  plants  so  small 
that  there  may  be  billions  of  them  in  one  of 
these  little  white  specks.  They  knew  how  to 
take  the  nitrates  from  the  air " 

"Air!"  ejaculated  Newton.  "Nitrates  in  the 
air!  You're  crazy!" 

"No,"  said  Jim.  "There  are  tons  of  nitrogen 
in  the  air  that  press  down  on  your  head — • 
but  the  big  plants  can't  get  it  through  their 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  19 

leaves,  or  their  roots.  They  never  had  to  learn, 
because  when  the  little  plants — bacteria — found 
that  the  big  plants  had  roots  with  sap  in  them, 
they  located  on  those  roots  ana  tapped  them 
for  the  sap  they  needed.  They  began  to  get 
their  board  and  lodgings  off  the  big  plants. 
And  in  payment  for  their  hotel  bills,  the  little 
plants  took  nitrogen  out  of  the  air  for  both 
themselves  and  their  hosts." 

"What  d'ye  mean  by  'hosts'?" 

"Their  hotel-keepers — the  big  plants.  And 
now  the  plants  that  have  the  hotel  roots  for 
the  bacteria  furnish  nitrogen  not  only  for 
themselves  but  for  the  crops  that  follow.  Corn 
can't  get  nitrogen  out  of  the  air;  but  clover 
can — and  that's  why  we  ought  to  plow  down 
clover  before  a  crop  of  corn." 

"Gee!"  said  Newt.  "If  you  could  get  to 
teach  our  school,  I'd  go  again." 

"It  would  interfere  with  your  pool  playing." 

"What  business  is  that  o'  yours?"  inter 
rogated  Newt  defiantly. 

"Well,  get  busy  with  that  shovel,"  suggested 
Jim,  who  had  been  working  steadily,  driving 


20  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

out  upon  the  fill  occasionally  to  unload.  On  his 
return  from  dumping  the  next  load,  Newton 
seemed,  in  a  superior  way,  quite  amiably  dis 
posed  toward  his  workfellow — rather  the  ha 
bitual  thing  in  the  neighborhood. 

"I'll  work  my  old  man  to  vote  for  you  for 
the  job,"  said  he. 

"What  job?"  asked  Jim. 

"Teacher  for  our  school,"  answered  Newt. 

"Those  school  directors,"  replied  Jim,  "have 
become  so  bullheaded  that  they'll  never  vote  for 
any  one  except  the  applicants  they've  been  vot 
ing  for." 

"The  old  man  says  he  will  have  Prue  Foster 
again,  or  he'll  give  the  school  a  darned  long 
vacation,  unless  Peterson  and  Bonner  join  on 
some  one  else.  That  would  beat  Prue,  of 
course." 

"And  Con  Bonner  won't  vote  for  any  one 
but  Maggie  Gilmartin,"  added  Jim. 

"And,"  supplied  Newton,  "Haakon  Peterson 
says  he'll  stick  to  Herman  Paulson  until  the 
Hot  Springs  freeze  over." 

"And  there  you  are,"  said  Jim.  "You  tell 
your  father  for  me  that  I  think  he's  a  mere 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  21 

mule — and  that  the  whole  district  thinks  the 
same." 

"All  right,"  said  Newt.  "I'll  tell  him  that 
While  I'm  working  him  to  vote  for  you." 

Jim  smiled  grimly.  Such  a  position  might 
have  been  his  years  ago,  if  he  could  have  left 
his  mother  or  earned  enough  in  it  to  keep  both 
alive.  He  had  remained  a  peasant  because  the 
American  rural  teacher  is  placed  economically 
lower  than  the  peasant.  He  gave  Newton's 
chatter  no  consideration.  But  when,  in  the 
afternoon,  he  hitched  his  team  with  others  to 
the  big  road  grader,  and  the  gang  became  con 
centrated  within  talking  distance,  he  found 
that  the  project  of  heckling  and  chaffing  him 
about  his  eminent  fitness  for  a  scholastic  posi 
tion  was  to  be  the  real  entertainment  of  the 
occasion. 

"Jim's  the  candidate  to  bust  the  deadlock," 
said  Columbus  Brown,  with  a  wink.  "Just  like 
Garfield  in  that  Republican  convention  he  was 
nominated  in — eh,  Con?" 

"Con"  was  Cornelius  Bonner,  an  Irishman, 
one  of  the  deadlocked  school  board,  and  the 


22  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

captain  of  the  road  grader.  He  winked  back 
at  the  pathmaster. 

"Jim's  the  gray-eyed  man  o'  destiny,"  he  re 
plied,  "if  he  can  get  two  votes  in  that  board." 

"You'd  vote  for  me,  wouldn't  you,  Con?" 
asked  Jim. 

"I'll  try  annything  wance,"  replied  Bonner. 

"Try  voting  with  Ezra  Bronson  once,  for 
Prue  Foster,"  suggested  Jim.  "She's  done 
good  work  here." 

"Opinions  differ,"  said  Bonner,  "an'  when 
you  try  annything  just  for  wance,  it  shouldn't 
be  an  irrevocable  shtip,  me  bye." 

"You're  a  reasonable  board  of  public  serv 
ants,"  said  Jim  ironically.  "I'd  like  to  tell  the 
whole  board  what  I  think  of  them." 

"Come  down  to-night,"  said  Bonner  jeer- 
ingly.  "We're  going  to  have  a  board  meeting 
at  the  schoolhouse  and  ballot  a  few  more  times. 
Come  down,  and  be  the  Garfield  of  the  convin- 
tion.  We've  lacked  brains  on  the  board,  that's 
clear.  They  ain't  a  man  on  the  board  that  iver 
studied  algebra,  'r  that  knows  more  about 
farmin'  than  their  impl'yers.  Come  down  to 
the  schoolhouse,  and  we'll  have  a  field-hand  ad- 


A  MAIDEN'S  "HUMPH!"  23 

driss  the  school  board — and  begosh,  I'll  move 
yer  illiction  mesilf !  Come,  now,  Jimmy,  me 
bye,  be  game.  It'll  vary  the  program,  anny- 
how." 

The  entire  gang  grinned.  Jim  flushed,  and 
then  reconquered  his  calmness  of  spirit. 

"All  right,  Con,"  said  he.  "I'll  come  and  tell 
you  a  few  things — and  you  can  do  as  you  like 
about  making  the  motion." 


CHAPTER  H 

REVERSED  UNANIMITY 

great  blade  of  the  grading  machine, 
running  diagonally  across  the  road  and 
pulling  the  earth  toward  its  median  line,  had 
made  several  trips,  and  much  persiflage  about 
Jim  Irwin's  forthcoming  appearance  before 
the  board  had  been  addressed  to  Jim  and  ex 
changed  by  others  for  his  benefit. 

To  Newton  Bronson  was  given  the  task  of 
leveling  and  distributing  the  earth  rolled  into 
the  road  by  the  grader — a  labor  which  in  the 
interests  of  fitting  a  muzzle  on  his  big  mongrel 
dog  he  deserted  whenever  the  machine  moved 
away  from  him.  No  dog  would  have  seemed 
less  deserving  of  a  muzzle,  for  he  was  a 
friendly  animal,  always  wagging  his  tail,  press 
ing  his  nose  into  people's  palms,  licking  their 
clothing  and  otherwise  making  a  nuisance  of 
himself.  That  there  was  some  mystery  about 
24 


BEVERSED  UNANIMITY  25 

the  muzzle  was  evident  from  Newton's  pains 
to  make  a  secret  of  it.  Its  wires  were  curled 
into  a  ring  directly  over  the  dog's  nose,  and 
into  this  ring  Newton  had  fitted  a  cork, 
through  which  he  had  thrust  a  large  needle 
which  protruded,  an  inch-long  bayonet,  in 
front  of  Ponto's  nose.  As  the  grader  swept 
back,  horses  straining,  harness  creaking  and 
a  billow  of  dark  earth  rolling  before  the  knife, 
Ponto,  fully  equipped  with  this  stinger,  raced 
madly  alongside,  a  friend  to  every  man,  but 
not  unlike  some  people,  one  whose  friendship 
was  of  all  things  to  be  most  dreaded. 

As  the  grader  moved  along  one  side  of 
the  highway,  a  high-powered  automobile  ap 
proached  on  the  other.  It  was  attempting  to 
rush  the  swale  for  the  hill  opposite,  and 
making  rather  bad  weather  of  the  newly  re 
paired  road.  A  pile  of  loose  soil  that  Newton 
had  allowed  to  lie  just  across  the  path  made 
a  certain  maintenance  of  speed  desirable.  The 
knavish  Newton  planted  himself  in  the  path 
of  the  laboring  car,  and  waved  its  driver  a 
command  to  halt.  The  car  came  to  a  standstill 
with  its  front  wheels  in  the  edge  of  the  loose 


26  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

earth,  and  the  chauffeur  fuming  at  the  possi 
bility  of  stalling — a  contingency  upon  which 
Newton  had  confidently  reckoned. 

"What  d'ye  want?"  he  demanded.  "What 
d'ye  mean  by  stopping  me  in  this  kind  of 
place?" 

"I  want  to  ask  you,"  said  Newton  with  mock 
politeness,  "if  you  have  the  correct  time." 

The  chauffeur  sought  words  appropriate  to 
his  feelings.  Ponto  and  his  muzzle  saved  him 
the  trouble.  A  pretty  pointer  leaped  from  the 
car,  and  attracted  by  the  evident  friendliness 
of  Ponto's  greeting,  pricked  up  its  ears,  and 
sought,  in  a  spirit  of  canine  brotherhood,  to 
touch  noses  with  him.  The  needle  in  Ponto's 
muzzle  did  its  work  to  the  agony  and  horror 
of  the  pointer,  which  leaped  back  with  a  yelp, 
and  turned  tail.  Ponto,  in  an  effort  to  apolo 
gize,  followed,  and  finding  itself  bayonetted  at 
every  contact  with  this  demon  dog,  the  pointer 
definitely  took  flight,  howling,  leaving  Ponto 
in  a  state  of  wonder  and  humiliation  at  the 
sudden  end  of  what  had  promised  to  be  a  very 
friendly  acquaintance.  I  have  known  instances 
not  entirely  dissimilar  among  human  beings. 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  27 

The  pointer's  master  watched  its  strange 
flight,  and  swore.  His  eye  turned  to  the  boy 
who  had  caused  all  this,  and  he  alighted  pale 
with  anger. 

"I've  got  time,"  said  he,  remembering  New 
ton's  impudent  question,  "to  give  you  what 
you  deserve." 

Newton  grinned  and  dodged,  but  the  bank 
of  loose  earth  was  his  undoing,  and  while  he 
stumbled,  the  chauffeur  caught  and  held  him 
by  the  collar.  And  as  he  held  the  boy,  the  op 
eration  of  flogging  him  in  the  presence  of  the 
grading  gang  grew  less  to  his  taste.  Again 
Ponto  intervened,  for  as  the  chauffeur  stood 
holding  Newton,  the  dog,  evidently  regarding 
the  stranger  as  his  master's  friend,  thrust  his 
nose  into  the  chauffeur's  palm — the  needle  nec 
essarily  preceding  the  nose.  The  chauffeur 
behaved  much  as  his  pointer  had  done,  sav 
ing  and  excepting  that  the  pointer  did  not 
swear. 

It  was  funny — even  the  pain  involved  could 
not  make  it  otherwise  than  funny.  The  grad 
ing  gang  laughed  to  a  man.  Newton  grinned 
even  while  in  the  fell  clutch  of  circumstance. 


28  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Ponto  tried  to  smell  the  chauffeur's  trousers, 
and  what  had  been  a  laugh  became  a  roar, 
quite  general  save  for  the  fact  that  the  chauf 
feur  did  not  join  in  it. 

Caution  and  mercy  departed  from  the  chauf 
feur's  mood ;  and  he  drew  back  his  fist  to  strike 
the  boy — and  found  it  caught  by  the  hard  hand 
of  Jim  Irwin. 

"You're  too  angry  to  punish  this  boy,"  said 
Jim  gently, — "even  if  you  had  the  right  to 
punish  him  at  all !" 

"Oh,  cut  it  out,"  said  a  fat  man  in  the  rear 
of  the  car,  who  had  hitherto  manifested  no  in 
terest  in  anything  save  Ponto.  "Get  in,  and 
let's  be  on  our  way!" 

The  chauffeur,  however,  recognized  in  a  man 
of  mature  years  and  full  size,  and  a  creature 
with  no  mysterious  needle  in  his  nose,  a  relief 
from  his  embarrassment.  Unhesitatingly,  he 
released  Newton,  and  blindly,  furiously  and  f  u- 
tilely,  he  delivered  a  blow  meant  for  Jim's  jaw, 
but  which  really  miscarried  by  a  foot.  In  re 
ply,  Jim  countered  with  an  awkward  swinging 
uppercut,  which  was  superior  to  the  chauffeur's 
blow  in  one  respect  only — it  landed  fairly  on  the 


Jim  countered  with  an  awkward  uppercut 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  29 

point  of  the  jaw.  The  chauffeur  staggered  and 
slowly  toppled  over  into  the  soft  earth  which 
had  caused  so  much  of  the  rumpus.  Newton 
Bronson  slipped  behind  a  hedge,  and  took  his 
infernally  equipped  dog  with  him.  The  grader 
gang  formed  a  ring  about  the  combatants  and 
waited.  Colonel  Woodruff,  driving  toward 
home  in  his  runabout,  held  up  by  the  traffic 
blockade,  asked  what  was  going  on  here,  and 
the  chauffeur,  rising  groggily,  picked  up  his 
goggles,  climbed  into  the  car;  and  the  meeting 
dissolved,  leaving  Jim  Irwin  greatly  embar 
rassed  by  the  fact  that  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  he  had  struck  a  man  in  combat. 

"Good  work,  Jim,"  said  Cornelius  Bonner. 
"I  didn't  think  'twas  in  ye!" 

"It's  beastly,"  said  Jim,  reddening.  "I  didn't 
know,  either." 

Colonel  Woodruff  looked  at  his  hired  man 
sharply,  gave  him  some  instructions  for  the 
next  day  and  drove  on.  The  road  gang  dis 
persed  for  the  afternoon.  Newton  Bronson 
carefully  secreted  the  magic  muzzle,  and 
chuckled  at  what  had  been  perhaps  the  most 
picturesquely  successful  bit  of  deviltry  in  his 


SO  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

varied  record.  Jim  Irwin  put  out  his  team,  got 
his  supper  and  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  school 
board. 

The  deadlocked  members  of  the  board  had 
been  so  long  at  loggerheads  that  their  relations 
had  swayed  back  to  something  like  amity.  Jim 
had  scarcely  entered  when  Con  Bonner  ad 
dressed  the  chair. 

"Mr.  Prisidint,"  said  he,  "we  have  wid  us 
t'night,  a  young  man  who  nades  no  introduc 
tion  to  an  audience  in  this  place,  Mr.  Jim  Ir 
win.  He  thinks  we're  bullheaded  mules,  and 
that  all  the  schools  are  bad.  At  the  proper 
time  I  shall  move  that  we  hire  him  f  'r  teacher ; 
and  pinding  that  motion,  I  move  that  he  be 
given  the  floor.  Ye've  all  heared  of  Mr.  Ir- 
win's  ability  as  a  white  hope,  and  I  know  he'll 
be  listened  to  wid  respect!" 

Much  laughter  from  the  board  and  the  spec 
tators,  as  Jim  arose.  He  looked  upon  it  as  ridi 
cule  of  himself,  while  Con  Bonner  regarded  it 
as  a  tribute  to  his  successful  speech. 

"Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Board," 
said  Jim,  "I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  anything 
that  you  don't  know  about  yourselves.  You 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  31 

are  simply  making  a  farce  of  the  matter  of 
hiring  a  teacher  for  this  school.  It  is  not  as 
if  any  of  you  had  a  theory  that  the  teaching 
methods  of  one  of  these  teachers  would  be  any 
better  than  or  much  different  from  those  of 
the  others.  You  know,  and  I  know,  that  which 
ever  is  finally  engaged,  or  even  if  your  silly 
deadlock  is  broken  by  employing  a  new  candi 
date,  the  school  will  be  the  same  old  story.  It 
will  still  be  the  school  it  was  when  I  came  into 
it  a  little  ragged  boy" — here  Jim's  voice  grew  a 
little  husky — "and  when  I  left  it,  a  bigger  boy, 
but  still  as  ragged  as  ever." 

There  was  a  slight  sensation  in  the  audience, 
as  if,  as  Con  Bonner  said  about  the  knock 
down,  they  hadn't  thought  Jim  Irwin  could 
doit 

"Well,"  said  Con,  "you've  done  well  to  hold 
your  own." 

"In  all  the  years  I  attended  this  school,"  Jim 
went  on,  "I  never  did  a  bit  of  work  in  school 
which  was  economically  useful.  It  was  all  dry 
stuff  copied  from  the  city  schools.  No  other 
pupil  ever  did  any  real  work  of  the  sort  farm 
ers'  boys  and  girls  should  do.  We  copied  city 


32  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

schools — and  the  schools  we  copied  are  poor 
schools.  We  made  bad  copies  of  them,  too.  If 
any  of  you  three  men  were  making  a  fight  for 
what  Roosevelt's  Country  Life  Commission 
called  a  'new  kind  of  rural  school/  I'd  say  fight. 
But  you  aren't.  You're  just  making  individual 
fights  for  your  favorite  teachers." 

Jim  Irwin  made  a  somewhat  lengthy  speech 
after  the  awkwardness  wore  off,  so  long  that 
his  audience  was  nodding  and  yawning  by  the 
time  he  reached  his  peroration,  in  which  he  ab 
jured  Bronson,  Bonner  and  Peterson  to  study 
his  plan  of  a  new  kind  of  rural  school, — in 
which  the  work  of  the  school  should  be  corre 
lated  with  the  life  of  the  home  and  the  farm 
— a  school  which  would  be  in  the  highest  de 
gree  cultural  by  being  consciously  useful  and 
obviously  practical.  There  sharp  spats  of  ap 
plause  from  the  useless  hands  of  Newton  Bron 
son  gave  the  final  touch  of  absurdity  to  a  sit 
uation  which  Jim  had  felt  to  be  ridiculous  all 
through.  Had  it  not  been  for  Jennie  Wood 
ruff's  "Humph !"  stinging  him  to  do  something 
outside  the  round  of  duties  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  had  it  not  been  for  the  absurd  notion 


"We  have  wid  us  t'night" 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  33 

that  perhaps,  after  they  had  heard  his  speech, 
they  would  place  him  in  charge  of  the  school, 
and  that  he  might  be  able  to  do  something 
really  important  in  it,  he  would  not  have  been 
there.  As  he  sat  down,  he  felt  himself  a  silly 
clodhopper,  filled  with  the  east  wind  of  his  own 
conceit,  out  of  touch  with  the  real  world  of 
men.  He  knew  himself  a  dreamer.  The  nod 
ding  board  of  directors,  the  secretary,  actually 
snoring,  and  the  bored  audience  restored  the 
field-hand  to  a  sense  of  his  proper  place. 

"We  have  had  the  privilege  of  list'nin',"  said 
Con  Bonner,  rising,  "to  a  great  speech,  Mr. 
Prisidint.  We  should  be  proud  to  have  a  borned 
orator  like  this  in  the  agricultural  population 
of  the  district.  A  regular  William  Jennin's 
Bryan.  I  don't  understand  what  he  was  try 
ing  to  tell  us,  but  sometimes  I've  had  the  same 
difficulty  with  the  spaches  of  the  Boy  Orator 
of  the  Platte.  Makin'  a  good  spache  is  one 
thing,  and  teaching  a  good  school  is  another, 
but  in  order  to  bring  this  matter  before  the 
board,  I  nominate  Mr.  James  E.  Irwin,  the  Boy 
Orator  of  the  Woodruff  District,  and  the  new 
white  hope,  f'r  the  job  of  teacher  of  this  school, 


34  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

and  I  move  that  when  he  shall  have  received 
a  majority  of  the  votes  of  this  board,  the  sec 
retary  and  prisidint  be  insthructed  to  enter 
into  a  contract  with  him  f'r  the  comin'  year." 

The  seconding  of  motions  on  a  board  of 
three  has  its  objectionable  features,  since  it 
seems  to  commit  a  majority  of  the  body  to  the 
motion  in  advance.  The  president,  therefore, 
followed  usage,  when  he  said — "If  there's  no 
objection,  it  will  be  so  ordered.  The  chair 
hears  no  objection — and  it  is  so  ordered.  Pre 
pare  the  ballots  for  a  vote  on  the  election  of 
teacher,  Mr.  Secretary.  Each  votes  his  prefer 
ence  for  teacher.  A  majority  elects." 

For  months,  the  ballots  had  come  out  of  the 
box — an  empty  crayon-box — Herman  Paulson, 
one;  Prudence  Foster,  one;  Margaret  Gilmar- 
tin,  one;  and  every  one  present  expected  the 
same  result  now.  There  was  no  surprise,  how 
ever,  in  view  of  the  nomination  of  Jim  Irwin 
by  the  blarneying  Bonner  when  the  secretary 
smoothed  out  the  first  ballot,  and  read :  "James 
E.  Irwin,  one."  Clearly  this  was  the  Bonner 
vote ;  but  when  the  next  slip  came  forth,  "James 
E.  Irwin,  two,"  the  Board  of  Directors  of  the 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  35 

Woodruff  Independent  District  were  stunned 
at  the  slowly  dawning  knowledge  that  they  had 
made  an  election !  Before  they  had  rallied,  the 
secretary  drew  from  the  box  the  third  and  last 
ballot,  and  read,  "James  E.  Irwin,  three." 

President  Bronson  choked  as  he  announced 
the  result — choked  and  stammered,  and  made 
very  hard  weather  of  it,  but  he  went  through 
with  the  motion,  as  we  all  run  in  our  grooves. 

"The  ballot  having  shown  the  unanimous 
election  of  James  E.  Irwin,  I  declare  him 
elected." 

He  dropped  into  his  chair,  while  the  secre 
tary,  a  very  methodical  man,  drew  from  his 
portfolio  a  contract  duly  drawn  up  save  for  the 

signatures  of  the  officers  of  the  district,  and 
I 

the  name  and  signature  of  the  teacher-elect. 
This  he  calmly  filled  out,  and  passed  over  to  the 
president,  pointing  to  the  dotted  line.  Mr. 
Bronson  would  have  signed  his  own  death- 
warrant  at  that  moment,  not  to  mention  a 
perfectly  legal  document,  and  signed  with 
Peterson  and  Bonner  looking  on  stonily.  The 
secretary  signed  and  shoved  the  contract  over 
to  Jim  Irwin. 


36  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Sign  there,"  he  said. 

Jim  looked  it  over,  saw  the  other  signatures, 
and  felt  an  impulse  to  dodge  the  whole  thing. 
He  could  not  feel  that  the  action  of  the  board 
was  serious.  He  thought  of  the  platform  he 
had  laid  down  for  himself,  and  was  daunted. 
He  thought  of  the  days  in  the  open  field,  and 
©f  the  untroubled  evenings  with  his  books,  and 
he  shrank  from  the  work.  Then  he  thought  of 
Jennie  Woodruff's  "Humph!" — and  he  signed! 

"Move  we  adjourn,"  said  Peterson. 

"No  'bjection  't's  so  ordered!"  said  Mr. 
Bronson. 

The  secretary  and  Jim  went  out,  while  the 
directors  waited. 

"What  the  Billy—"  began  Bonner,  and  fin 
ished  lamely !  "What  for  did  you  vote  for  the 
dub,  Ez?" 

"I  voted  for  him,"  replied  Bronson,  "because 
he  fought  for  my  boy  this  afternoon.  I  didn't 
want  it  stuck  into  him  too  hard.  I  wanted  him 
to  have  one  vote." 

"An'  I  wanted  him  to  have  wan  vote,  too," 
said  Bonner.  "I  thought  mesilf  the  only  dang 
fool  on  the  board — an'  he  made  a  spache  that 


REVERSED  UNANIMITY  37 

aimed  wan  vote — but  f 'r  the  love  of  hivin,  that 
dub  f'r  a  teacher!  What  come  over  you, 
Haakon — you  voted  f'r  him,  too!" 

"Ay  vanted  him  to  have  one  wote,  too,"  said 
Peterson. 

And  in  this  wise,  Jim  became  the  teacher  in 
the  Woodruff  District — all  on  account  of  Jennie 
Woodruif's  "Humph!" 


CHAPTER  III 
WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE 

T  IMMEDIATELY  upon  the  accidental  election 
*  of  Jim  Irwin  to  the  position  of  teacher  of 
the  Woodruff  school,  he  developed  habits  some 
what  like  a  ghost's  or  a  bandit's.  That  is,  he 
walked  of  nights  and  on  rainy  days. 

On  fine  days,  he  worked  in  Colonel  Woodruff's 
fields  as  of  yore.  Had  he  been  appointed  to  a 
position  attached  to  a  salary  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  he  might  have  spent  six  months 
on  a  preliminary  vacation  in  learning  some 
thing  about  his  new  duties.  But  Jim's  salary 
was  to  be  three  hundred  and  sixty  dollars  for 
nine  months'  work  in  the  Woodruff  school,  and 
he  was  to  find  himself — and  his  mother.  There 
fore,  he  had  to  indulge  in  his  loose  habits  of 
night  walking  and  roaming  about  after  hours 
only,  or  on  holidays  and  in  foul  weather. 
38 


WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE         39 

The  Simms  family,  being  from  the  mountings 
of  Tennessee,  were  rather  startled  one  night, 
when  Jim  Irwin,  homely,  stooped  and  errand- 
less,  silently  appeared  in  their  family  circle 
about  the  front  door.  They  had  lived  where  it 
was  the  custom  to  give  a  whoop  from  the  big 
road  before  one  passed  through  the  palin's  and 
up  to  the  house.  Otherwise,  how  was  one  to 
know  whether  the  visitor  was  friend  or  foe? 

From  force  of  habit,  Old  Man  Simms  started 
for  his  gun-rack  at  Jim's  appearance,  but  the 
Lincolnian  smile  and  the  low  slow  speech,  so 
much  like  his  own  in  some  respects,  ended  that 
part  of  the  matter.  Besides,  Old  Man  Simms 
remembered  that  none  of  the  Hobdays,  whose 
hostilities  somewhat  stood  in  the  way  of  the 
return  of  the  Simmses  to  their  native  hills, 
could  possibly  be  expected  to  appear  thus  in 
Iowa. 

"Stranger,"  said  Mr.  Simms,  after  greetings 
had  been  exchanged,  "you're  right  welcome, 
but  in  my  kentry  you'd  find  it  dangersome  to 
walk  in  thisaway." 

"How  so?"  queried  Jim  Irwin. 

"You'd  more'n  likely  git  shot  up  some,"  re- 


40  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

plied  Mr.  Simms,  "onless  you  whooped  from 
the  big  road." 

"I  didn't  know  that,"  replied  Jim.  "I'm 
ignorant  of  the  customs  of  other  countries. 
Would  you  rather  I'd  whoop  from  the  big 
road — nobody  else  will." 

"I  reckon,"  replied  Mr.  Simms,  "that  we-all 
will  have  to  accommodate  ourse'ves  to  the 
ways  hyeh." 

Evidently  Jim  was  the  Simms'  first  caller 
since  they  had  settled  on  the  little  brushy  tract 
whose  hills  and  trees  reminded  them  of  their 
mountains.  Low  hills,  to  be  sure,  with  only 
a  footing  of  rocks  where  the  creek  had  cut 
through,  and  not  many  trees,  but  down  in  the 
creek  bed,  with  the  oaks,  elms  and  box-elders 
arching  overhead,  the  Simmses  could  imagine 
themselves  beside  some  run  falling  into  the 
French  Broad,  or  the  Holston.  The  creek  bed 
was  a  withdrawing  room  in  which  to  retire 
from  the  eternal  black  soil  and  level  corn 
fields  of  Iowa.  What  if  the  soil  was  so  poor, 
in  comparison  with  those  black  uplands,  that 
the  owner  of  the  old  wood-lot  could  find  no 
renter?  It  was  better  than  the  soil  in  the 


WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE         41 

mountains,  and  suited  the  lonesome  Simmsea 
much  more  than  a  better  farm  would  have 
done.  They  were  not  of  the  Iowa  people  any 
how,  not  understood,  not  their  equals — they 
were  pore,  and  expected  to  stay  pore — while 
the  Iowa  people  all  seemed  to  be  either  well- 
to-do,  or  expecting  to  become  so.  It  was  much 
more  agreeable  to  the  Simmses  to  retire  to  the 
back  wood-lot  farm  with  the  creek  bed  running 
through  it. 

Jim  Irwin  asked  Old  Man  Simms  about  the 
fishing  in  the  creek,  and  whether  there  was  any 
duck  shooting  spring  and  fall. 
^  "We  git  right  smart  of  these  little  panfish," 
said  Mr.  Simms,  "an'  Calista  done  shot  two 
butterball  ducks  about  'tater-plantin'  time." 

Calista  blushed — but  this  stranger,  so  much 
like  themselves,  could  not  see  the  rosy  suffusion. 
The  allusion  gave  him  a  chance  to  look  about 
him  at  the  family.  There  was  a  boy  of  sixteen, 
a  girl — the  duck-shooting  Calista — younger 
than  Raymond — a  girl  of  eleven,  named  Vir 
ginia,  but  called  Jinnie — and  a  smaller  lad 
who  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  McGeehee,  but  was 
mercifully  called  Buddy. 


42  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Calista  squirmed  for  something  to  say. 
"Raymond  runs  a  line  o'  traps  when  the  fur's 
prime,"  she  volunteered. 

Then  came  a  long  talk  on  traps  and  trapping, 
shooting,  hunting  and  the  joys  of  the  moun 
tings — during  which  Jim  noted  the  ignorance 
and  poverty  of  the  Simmses.  The  clothing  of 
the  girls  was  not  decent  according  to  local 
standards ;  for  while  Calista  wore  a  skirt  hur 
riedly  slipped  on,  Jim  was  quite  sure — and  not 
without  evidence  to  support  his  views — that 
she  had  been  wearing  when  he  arrived  the 
same  regimentals  now  displayed  by  Jinnie — a 
pair  of  ragged  blue  overalls.  Evidently  the 
Simmses  were  wearing  what  they  had  and  not 
what  they  desired.  The  father  was  faded, 
patched,  gray  and  earthy,  and  the  boys  looked 
better  than  the  rest  solely  because  we  expect 
boys  to  be  torn  and  patched.  Mrs.  Simms  was 
invisible  except  as  a  gray  blur  beyond  the  rain- 
barrel,  in  the  midst  of  which  her  pipe  glowed 
with  a  regular  ebb  and  flow  of  embers. 

On  the  next  rainy  day  Jim  called  again  and 
secured  the  services  of  Raymond  to  help  him 
select  seed  corn.  He  was  going  to  teach  the 


WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE         43 

school  next  winter,  and  he  wanted  to  have  a 
seed-corn  frolic  the  first  day,  instead  of  waiting 
until  the  last — and  you  had  to  get  seed  corn 
while  it  was  on  the  stalk,  if  you  got  the  best. 
No  Simms  could  refuse  a  favor  to  the  fellow 
who  was  so  much  like  themselves,  and  who 
was  so  greatly  interested  in  trapping,  hunting 
and  the  Tennessee  mountains — so  Raymond 
went  with  Jim,  and  with  Newt  Bronson  and 
five  more  they  selected  Colonel  Woodruff's  seed 
corn  for  the  next  year,  under  the  colonel's 
personal  superintendence. 

In  the  evening  they  looked  the  grain  over 
on  the  Woodruff  lawn,  and  the  colonel  talked 
about  corn  and  corn  selection.  They  had  sup 
per  at  half  past  six,  and  Jennie  waited  on  them 
— having  assisted  her  mother  in  the  cooking. 
It  was  quite  a  festival.  Jim  Irwin  was  the 
least  conspicuous  person  in  the  gathering,  but 
the  colonel,  who  was  a  seasoned  politician,  ob 
served  that  the  farm-hand  had  become  a  fisher 
of  men,  and  was  angling  for  the  souls  of  these 
boys,  and  their  interest  in  the  school.  Jim  was 
careful  not  to  flush  the  covey,  but  every  boy 
received  from  the  next  winter's  teacher  some 


44  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

confidential  hint  as  to  plans,  and  some  sugges 
tion  that  Jim  was  relying  on  the  aid  and  com 
fort  of  that  particular  boy.  Newt  Bronson, 
especially,  was  leaned  on  as  a  strong  staff  and 
a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble.  As 
for  Raymond  Simms,  it  was  clearly  best  to 
leave  him  alone.  All  this  talk  of  corn  selection 
and  related  things  was  new  to  him,  and  he 
drank  it  in  thirstily.  He  had  an  inestimable 
advantage  over  Newt  in  that  he  was  starved, 
while  Newt  was  surfeited  with  "advantages" 
for  which  he  had  no  use. 

"Jennie,"  said  Colonel  Woodruff,  after  the 
party  had  broken  up,  "I'm  losing  the  best  hand 
I  ever  had,  and  I've  been  sorry." 

"I'm  glad  he's  leaving  you,"  said  Jennie.  "He 
ought  to  do  something  except  work  in  the  field 
for  wages." 

"I've  had  no  idea  he  could  make  good  as  a 
teacher — and  what  is  there  in  it  if  he  does?" 

"What  has  he  lost  if  he  doesn't?"  rejoined 
Jennie.  "And  why  can't  he  make  good?" 

"The  school  board's  against  him,  for  one 
thing,"  replied  the  colonel.  "They'll  fire  him  if 
they  get  a  chance.  They're  the  laughing-stock 


WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE        45 

of  the  country  for  hiring  him  by  mistake,  and 
they're  irritated.  But  after  seeing  him  per 
form  to-night,  I  wonder  if  he  can't  make  good/' 

"If  he  could  feel  like  anything  but  an  under* 
ling,  he'd  succeed,"  said  Jennie. 

"That's  his  heredity,"  stated  the  colonel, 
whose  live-stock  operations  were  based  on 
heredity.  "Jim's  a  scrub,  I  suppose;  but  he 
acts  as  if  he  might  turn  out  to  be  a  Brown 
Mouse." 

"What  do  you  mean,  pa,"  scoffed  Jennie — "a 
Brown  Mouse!" 

"A  fellow  in  Edinburgh,"  said  the  colonel, 
"crossed  the  Japanese  waltzing  mouse  with  the 
common  white  mouse.  Jim's  pedling  father 
was  a  waltzing  mouse,  no  good  except  to  jump 
from  one  spot  to  another  for  no  good  reason,, 
Jim's  mother  is  an  albino  of  a  woman,  with  all 
the  color  washed  out  in  one  way  or  another.  Jim 
ought  to  be  a  mongrel,  and  I've  always  con 
sidered  him  one.  But  the  Edinburgh  fellow 
every  once  in  a  while  got  out  of  his  variously- 
colored,  waltzing  and  albino  hybrids,  a  brown 
mouse.  It  wasn't  a  common  house  mouse, 
either,  but  a  wild  mouse  unlike  any  he  had 


46  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ever  seen.  It  ran  away,  and  bit  and 
gnawed,  and  raised  hob.  It  was  what  we  breed 
ers  call  a  Mendelian  segregation  of  genetic 
factors  that  had  been  in  the  waltzers  and  al 
binos  all  the  time — their  original  wild  ancestor 
of  the  woods  and  fields.  If  Jim  turns  out  to  be 
a  Brown  Mouse,  he  may  be  a  bigger  man  than 
any  of  us.  Anyhow,  I'm  for  him." 

"He'll  have  to  be  a  big  man  to  make  anything 
out  of  the  job  of  a  country  school-teacher,"  said 
Jennie. 

"Any  job's  as  big  as  the  man  who  holds 'it 
down,"  said  her  father. 

Next  day,  Jim  received  a  letter  from  Jennie. 

"Dear  Jim,"  it  ran.  "Father  says  you  are 
sure  to  have  a  hard  time — the  school  board's 
against  you,  and  all  that.  But  he  added,  'I'm 
for  Jim,  anyhow !'  I  thought  you'd  like  to  know 
this.  Also  he  said,  'Any  job's  as  big  as  the  man 
who  holds  it  down.'  And  I  believe  this  also, 
and  I'm  for  you,  too!  You  are  doing  wonders 
even  before  the  school  starts  in  getting  the 
pupils  interested  in  a  lot  of  things,  which,  while 
they  don't  belong  to  school  work,  will  make 
them  friends  of  yours.  I  don't  see  how  this 
will  help  you  much,  but  it's  a  fine  thing,  and 
shows  your  interest  in  them.  Don't  be  too 
original.  The  wheel  runs  easiest  in  the  beaten 
track.  Yours.  Jennie." 


WHAT  IS  A  BROWN  MOUSE         47 

Jennie's  caution  made  no  impression  on  Jim — • 
but  he  put  the  letter  away,  and  every  evening 
took  it  out  and  read  the  italicized  words,  "I'm 
•for  you,  too!"  The  colonel's  dictum,  "Any  job's 
as  big  as  the  man  who  holds  it  down,"  was 
an  Emersonian  truism  to  Jim.  It  reduced  all 
jobs  to  an  equality,  and  it  meant  equality  in 
intellectual  and  spiritual  development.  It 
didn't  mean,  for  instance,  that  any  job  was  as 
good  as  another  in  making  it  possible  for  a 
man  to  marry — and  Jennie  Woodruff's 
"Humph!"  returned  to  kill  and  drag  off  her 
"I'm  for  you,  tool" 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SCHOOL 

I  SUPPOSE  every  reader  will  say  that  genius 
consists  very  largely  in  seeing  Opportunity 
in  the  set  of  circumstances  or  thoughts  or  im 
pressions  that  constitute  Opportunity,  and 
making  the  best  of  them. 

Jim  Irwin  would  have  said  so,  anyhow.  He 
was  full  of  his  Emerson's  Representative  Men, 
and  his  Carlyle's  French  Revolution,  and  the 
other  old-fashioned,  excellent  good  literature 
which  did  not  cost  over  twenty-five  cents  a 
volume ;  and  he  had  pored  long  and  with  many 
thrills  over  the  pages  of  Matthews'  Getting  on 
in  the  World — which  is  the  best  book  of  purely 
conventional  helpfulness  in  the  language.  And 
his  view  of  efficiency  was  that  it  is  the  capacity 
to  see  opportunity  where  others  overlook  it, 
and  make  the  most  of  it. 

All  through  his  life  he  had  had  his  own  plans 
48 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SCHOOL         49 

for  becoming  great.  He  was  to  be  a  general, 
hurling  back  the  foes  of  his  country;  he  was 
to  be  the  nation's  master  in  literature;  a  suc 
cessful  drawing  on  his  slate  had  filled  him 
with  ambition,  confidently  entertained,  of  be 
coming  a  Rubens — and  the  story  of  Benjamin 
West  in  his  school  reader  fanned  this  spark 
to  a  flame;  science,  too,  had  at  times  been  his 
chosen  field;  and  when  he  had  built  a  mouse 
trap  which  actually  caught  mice,  he  saw  him 
self  a  millionaire  inventor.  As  for  being  presi 
dent,  that  was  a  commonplace  in  his  dreams. 
And  all  the  time,  he  was  barefooted,  ill-clad 
and  dreamed  his  dreams  to  the  accompaniment 
of  the  growl  of  the  plow  cutting  the  roots 
under  the  brown  furrow-slice,  or  the  wooshing 
of  the  milk  in  the  pail.  At  twenty-eight,  he 
considered  these  dreams  over. 

As  for  this  new  employment,  he  saw  no  great 
opportunity  in  it.  Of  any  spark  of  genius  he 
was  to  show  in  it,  of  anything  he  was  to  suffer 
in  it,  of  those  pains  and  penalties  wherewith 
the  world  pays  its  geniuses,  Jim  Irwin  antici 
pated  nothing.  He  went  into  the  small,  mean, 
ill-paid  task  as  a  part  of  the  day's  work,  with 


50  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

no  knowledge  of  the  stirring  of  the  nation  fo* 
a  different  sort  of  rural  school,  and  no  sus 
picion  that  there  lay  in  it  any  highway  to  suc 
cess  in  life.  He  was  not  a  college  man  or  even 
a  high-school  man.  All  his  other  dreams  had 
found  rude  awakening  in  the  fact  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  secure  the  schooling  which 
geniuses  need  in  these  days.  He  was  unfitted 
for  the  work  geniuses  do.  All  he  was  to  be 
was  a  rural  teacher,  accidentally  elected  by  a 
stupid  school  board,  and  with  a  hard  tussle 
before  him  to  stay  on  the  job  for  the  term  of 
his  contract.  He  could  have  accepted  positions 
quite  as  good  years  ago,  save  for  the  fact  that 
they  would  have  taken  him  away  from  his 
mother,  their  cheap  little  home,  their  garden 
and  their  fowls.  He  rather  wondered  why 
he  had  allowed  Jennie's  sneer  to  sting  him 
into  the  course  of  action  which  put  him  in  this 
new  relation  to  his  neighbors. 

But,  true  to  his  belief  in  honest  thorough 
work,  like  a  general  preparing  for  battle,  he 
examined  his  field  of  operations.  His  manner 
of  doing  this  seemed  to  prove  to  Colonel  Wood 
ruff,  who  watched  it  with  keen  interest  as  some- 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SCHOOL         51 

thing  new  in  the  world,  that  Jim  Irwin  was 
possibly  a  Brown  Mouse.  But  the  colonel  knew 
only  a  part  of  Jim's  performances.  He  saw 
Jim  clothed  in  slickers,  walking  through  rain 
storms  to  the  houses  in  the  Woodruff  District, 
as  greedy  for  every  moment  of  rain  as  a  hay 
maker  for  shine;  and  he  knew  that  Jim  made 
a  great  many  evening  calls. 

But  he  did  not  know  that  Jim  was  making 
what  our  sociologists  call  a  survey.  For  that 
matter,  neither  did  Jim ;  for  books  on  sociology 
cost  more  than  twenty-five  cents  a  volume,  and 
Jim  had  never  seen  one.  However,  it  was  a 
survey.  To  be  sure,  he  had  long  known  every 
body  in  the  district,  save  the  Simmses — and  he 
was  now  a  friend  of  all  that  exotic  race;  but 
there  is  knowing  and  knowing.  He  now  had 
note-books  full  of  facts  about  people  and  their 
farms.  He  knew  how  many  acres  each  family 
possessed,  and  what  sort  of  farming  each  hus 
band  was  doing — live  stock,  grain  or  mixed. 
He  knew  about  the  mortgages,  and  the  debts. 
He  knew  whether  the  family  atmosphere  was 
happy  and  contented,  or  the  reverse.  He  knew 
which  boys  and  girls  were  wayward  and  in- 


52  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

subordinate.  He  made  a  record  of  the  advance 
ment  in  their  studies  of  all  the  children,  and 
what  they  liked  to  read.  He  knew  their  favor 
ite  amusements.  He  talked  with  their  mothers 
and  sisters — not  about  the  school,  to  any  ex 
tent,  but  on  the  weather,  the  horses,  the  auto 
mobiles,  the  silo-filling  machinery  and  the 
profits  of  farming. 

I  suppose  that  no  person  who  has  undertaken 
the  management  of  the  young  people  of  any 
school  in  all  the  history  of  education,  ever  did 
so  much  work  of  this  sort  before  his  school 
opened.  Really,  though  Jennie  Woodruff  did 
not  see  how  such  doings  related  to  school 
work,  Jim  Irwin's  school  was  running  full  blast 
in  the  homes  of  the  district  and  the  minds  of 
many  pupils,  weeks  and  weeks  before  that  day 
when  he  called  them  to  order  on  the  Monday 
specified  in  his  contract  as  the  first  day  of 
school. 

Con  Bonner,  who  came  to  see  the  opening, 
voiced  the  sentiments  of  the  older  people  when 
he  condemned  the  school  as  disorderly.  To  be 
sure,  there  were  more  pupils  enrolled  than 
had  ever  entered  on  a  first  day  in  the  whole 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OF  SCHOOL         53 

history  of  the  school,  and  it  was  hard  to  ac 
commodate  them  all.  But  the  director's  criti 
cism  was  leveled  against  the  free-and-easy  air 
of  the  children.  Most  of  them  had  brought 
seed  corn  and  a  good-sized  corn  show  was  on 
view.  There  was  much  argument  as  to  the 
merits  of  the  various  entries.  Instead  of  a 
language  lesson  from  the  text-book,  Jim  had 
given  them  an  exercise  based  on  an  examina 
tion  of  the  ears  of  corn. 

The  number  exercises  of  the  little  chaps  had 
been  worked  out  with  ears  and  kernels  of  corn. 
One  class  in  arithmetic  calculated  the  percent 
age  of  inferior  kernels  at  tip  and  butt  to  the 
full-sized  grains  in  the  middle  of  the  ear. 

All  the  time,  Jim  Irwin,  awkward  and 
uncouth,  clad  in  his  none-too-good  Sunday  suit 
and  trying  to  hide  behind  his  Lincolnian  smile 
the  fact  that  he  was  pretty  badly  frightened 
and  much  embarrassed,  passed  among  them, 
getting  them  enrolled,  setting  them  to  work, 
wasting  much  time  and  laboring  like  a  heavy- 
laden  barge  in  a  seaway. 

"That  feller'll  never  do,"  said  Bonner  to 


54  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Bronson  next  day.  "Looks  like  a  tramp  in  the 
schoolroom/' 

"Wearin'  his  best,  I  guess,"  said  Bronson. 

"Half  the  kids  call  him  'Jim/  "  said  Bonner. 

"That's  all  right  with  me,"  replied  Bronson. 

"The  room  was  as  noisy  as  a  caucus,"  was 
Bonner's  next  indictment,  "and  the  flure  was 
all  over  corn  like  a  hog-pin." 

"Oh!  I  don't  suppose  he  can  get  away  with 
it,"  assented  Bronson  disgustedly,  "but  that 
boy  of  mine  is  as  tickled  as  a  colt  with  the 
whole  thing.  Says  he's  goin'  reg'lar  this 
winter." 

"That's  because  Jim  don't  keep  no  order," 
said  Bonner.  "He  lets  Newt  do  as  he  dam 
pleases." 

"First  time  he's  ever  pleased  to  do  anything 
but  deviltry,"  protested  Bronson.  "Oh,  I  sup 
pose  Jim'll  fall  down,  and  we'll  have  to  fire 
him — but  I  wish  we  could  git  a  good  teacher 
that  would  git  hold  of  Newt  the  way  he 
seems  to !" 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  PROMOTION  OF  JENNIE 

IF  Jennie  Woodruff  was  the  cause  of  Jim 
Irwin's  sudden  irruption  into  the  educa 
tional  field  by  her  scoffing  "Humph !"  at  the  idea 
of  a  farm-hand's  ever  being  able  to  marry,  she 
also  gave  him  the  opportunity  to  knock  down 
the  driver  of  the  big  motor-car,  and  perceptibly 
elevate  himself  in  the  opinion  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  while  filling  his  own  heart  with  something 
like  shame. 

The  fat  man  who  had  said  "Cut  it  out"  to  his 
driver,  was  Mr.  Charles  Dilly,  a  business  man 
in  the  village  at  the  extreme  opposite  corner 
of  the  county.  His  choice  of  the  Woodruff  Dis 
trict  as  a  place  for  motoring  had  a  secret  expla 
nation.  I  am  under  no  obligation  to  preserve 
the  secret.  He  came  to  see  Colonel  Woodruff 
and  Jennie.  Mr.  Dilly  was  a  candidate  for 
county  treasurer,  and  wished  to  be  nominated 

55 


56  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

at  the  approaching  county  convention.  In  his 
part  of  the  county  lived  the  county  superin 
tendent — a  candidate  for  renomination.  He 
was  just  a  plain  garden  or  field  county  superin 
tendent  of  schools,  no  better  and  no  worse  than 
the  general  political  run  of  them,  but  he  had 
local  pride  enlisted  in  his  cause,  and  was  a 
good  politician. 

Mr.  Dilly  was  in  the  Woodruff  District  to 
build  a  backfire  against  this  conflagration  of 
the  county  superintendent.  He  expected  to  use 
Jennie  Woodruff  to  light  it  withal.  That  is, 
while  denying  that  he  wished  to  make  any  deal 
or  trade — every  candidate  in  every  convention 
always  says  that — he  wished  to  say  to  Miss 
Woodruff  and  her  father,  that  if  Miss  Woodruff 
would  permit  her  name  to  be  used  for  the 
office  of  county  superintendent  of  schools,  a 
goodly  group  of  delegates  could  be  selected  in 
the  other  corner  of  the  county  who  would  be 
glad  to  reciprocate  any  favors  Mr.  Charles  J. 
Dilly  might  receive  in  the  way  of  votes  for 
county  treasurer  with  ballots  for  Miss  Jennie 
Woodruff  for  superintendent  of  schools. 

Mr.  Dilly  never  inquired  as  to  Miss  Wood- 


THE  PROMOTION  OF  JENNIE        57 

ruff's  abilities  as  an  educator.  That  would 
have  been  eccentric.  Miss  Woodruff  never 
asked  herself  if  she  knew  anything  about  rural 
education  which  especially  fitted  her  for  the 
task ;  for  was  she  not  a  popular  and  successful 
teacher — and  was  not  that  enough?  Mr.  Dilly 
merely  asked  himself  if  Miss  Woodruff's  name 
could  command  strength  enough  to  eliminate 
the  embarrassing  candidate  in  his  part  of  the 
county  and  leave  the  field  to  himself.  Miss 
Woodruff  asked  herself  whether  the  work 
would  not  give  her  a  pleasanter  life  than  did 
teaching,  a  better  salary,  and  more  chances 
to  settle  herself  in  life.  So  are  the  officials 
chosen  who  supervise  and  control  the  education 
of  the  farm  children  of  America. 

This  secret  mission  to  effect  a  political  trade 
accounted  for  Mr.  Dilly's  desire  that  his  driver 
should  "cut  out"  the  controversy  with  Newton 
Bronson,  and  the  personal  encounter  with  Jim 
Irwin — and  it  may  account  for  Jim's  easy  vic 
tory  in  his  first  and  only  physical  encounter. 
An  office  seeker  could  scarcely  afford  to  let  his 
friend  or  employee  lick  a  member  of  a  farmers' 
road  gang.  It  certainly  explains  the  fact  that 


58  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

when  Jim  Irwin  started  home  from  putting 
out  his  team  the  day  after  his  first  call  on  the 
Simms  family,  Jennie  was  waiting  at  the  gate 
to  be  congratulated  on  her  nomination. 

"I  congratulate  you,"  said  Jim. 

"Thanks,"  said  Jennie,  extending  her  hand. 

"I  hope  you're  elected,"  Jim  went  on,  holding 
the  hand ;  "but  there's  no  doubt  of  that." 

"They  say  not,"  replied  Jennie;  "but  father 
says  I  must  go  about  and  let  the  people  see 
me.  He  believes  in  working  just  as  if  we  didn't 
have  a  big  majority  for  the  ticket." 

"A  woman  has  an  advantage  of  a  man  in 
such  a  contest,"  said  Jim;  "she  can  work  just 
as  hard  as  he  can,  and  at  the  same  time  profit 
by  the  fact  that  it's  supposed  she  can't." 

"I  need  all  the  advantage  I  possess,"  said 
Jennie,  "and  all  the  votes.  Say  a  word  for  me 
when  on  your  pastoral  rounds." 

"All  right,"  said  Jim,  "what  shall  I  say  you'll 
do  for  the  schools?" 

"Why,"  said  Jennie,  rather  perplexed,  "I'll 
be  fair  in  my  examinations  of  teachers,  try  to 
keep  the  unfit  teachers  out  of  the  schools,  visit 


THE  PROMOTION  OF  JENNIE        59 

schools  as  often  as  I  can,  and — why,  what  does 
any  good  superintendent  do?" 

"I  never  heard  of  a  good  county  superin 
tendent,"  said  Jim. 

"Never  heard  of  one — why,  Jim  Irwin !" 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  any  such  thing," 
persisted  Jim,  "and  if  you  do  no  more  than  you 
say,  you'll  be  off  the  same  piece  as  the  rest. 
Your  system  won't  give  us  any  better  schools 
than  we  have — of  the  old  sort — and  we  need  a 
new  kind." 

"Oh,  Jim,  Jim !  Dreaming  as  of  yore !  Why 
can't  you  be  practical !  What  do  you  mean  by 
a  new  kind  of  rural  school?" 

"A  truly-rural  rural  school,"  said  Jim. 

"I  can't  pronounce  it,"  smiled  Jennie,  "to  say 
nothing  of  understanding  it.  What  would  your 
tralalooral  rural  school  do?" 

"It  would  be  correlated  with  rural  life,"  said 
Jim. 

"How?" 

"It  would  get  education  out  of  the  things  the 
farmers  and  farmers'  wives  are  interested  in 
as  a  part  of  their  lives." 


60  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"What,  for  instance?" 

"Dairying,  for  instance,  in  this  district ;  and 
soil  management;  and  corn-growing;  and  farm 
manual  training  for  boys ;  and  sewing,  cooking 
and  housekeeping  for  the  girls — and  caring  for 
babies!" 

Jennie  looked  serious,  after  smothering  a 
laugh. 

"Jim,"  said  she,  "you're  going  to  have  a  hard 
enough  time  to  succeed  in  the  Woodruff  school, 
if  you  confine  yourself  to  methods  that  have 
been  tested,  and  found  good." 

"But  the  old  methods,"  urged  Jim,  "have 
been  tested  and  found  bad.  Shall  I  keep  to 
them?" 

"They  have  made  the  American  people  what 
they  are,"  said  Jennie.  "Don't  be  unpatriotic, 
Jim." 

"They  have  educated  our  farm  children  for 
the  cities,"  said  Jim.  "This  county  is  losing 
population — and  it's  the  best  county  in  the 
world." 

"Pessimism  never  wins,"  said  Jennie. 

"Neither  does  blindness,"  answered  Jim.  "It 


THE  PKOMOTION  OF  JENNIE        61 

is  losing  the  farms  their  dwellers,  and  swelling 
the  cities  with  a  proletariat." 

For  some  time,  now,  Jim  had  ceased  to  hold 
Jennie's  hand;  and  their  sweetheart  days  had 
never  seemed  farther  away. 

"Jinx,"  said  Jennie,  "I  may  be  elected  to  a 
position  in  which  I  shall  be  obliged  to  pass  on 
your  acts  as  teacher — in  an  official  way,  I  mean. 
I  hope  they  will  be  justifiable." 

Jim  smiled  his  slowest  and  saddest  smile. 

"If  they're  not,  I'll  not  ask  you  to  condone 
them,"  said  he.  "But  first,  they  must  be  justi 
fiable  to  me,  Jennie." 

"Good  night,"  said  Jennie  curtly,  and  left 
him. 

Jennie,  I  am  obliged  to  admit,  gave  scant 
attention  to  the  new  career  upon  which  her  old 
sweetheart  seemed  to  be  entering.  She  was 
in  politics,  and  was  playing  the  game  as  be 
came  the  daughter  of  a  local  politician.  The 
reader  must  not  by  this  term  get  the  impres 
sion  that  Colonel  Woodruff  was  a  man  of  the 
grafting  tricky  sort  of  which  we  are  prone  to 
think  when  the  term  is  used.  The  West  has 
been  ruled  by  just  such  men  as  he,  and  the  West 


62  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

has  done  rather  well,  all  things  considered. 
Colonel  Albert  Woodruff  went  south  with  the 
army  as  a  corporal  in  1861,  and  came  back  a 
lieutenant.  His  title  of  colonel  was  conferred 
by  appointment  as  a  member  of  the  staff  of 
the  governor,  long  years  ago,  when  he  was 
county  auditor.  He  was  not  a  rich  man,  as  I 
may  have  suggested,  but  a  well-to-do  farmer, 
whose  wife  did  her  own  work  much  of  thf 
time,  not  because  the  colonel  could  not  afforcj 
to  hire  "help,"  but  for  the  reason  that  "hired 
girls"  were  hard  to  get. 

The  colonel,  having  seen  the  glory  of  the 
coming  of  the  Lord  in  the  triumph  of  his  side 
in  the  great  war,  was  inclined  to  think  that  all 
reform  had  ceased,  and  was  a  political  stand 
patter — a  very  honest  and  sincere  one.  More 
over,  he  was  influential  enough  so  that  when 
Mr.  Cummins  or  Mr.  Dolliver  came  into  the 
county  on  political  errands,  Colonel  Woodruff 
had  always  been  called  into  conference.  He 
was  of  the  old  New  England  type,  believed 
very  much  in  heredity,  very  much  in  the  theory 
that  whatever  is  is  right,  in  so  far  as  it  has 
secured  money  or  power. 


!THE  PROMOTION  OF  JENNIE        63 

He  had  hated  General  Weaver  and  his  forces ; 
and  had  sometimes  wondered  how  a  man  of 
Horace  Boies'  opinions  had  succeeded  in  being 
so  good  a  governor.  He  broke  with  Governor 
Larrabee  when  that  excellent  man  had  turned 
against  the  great  men  who  had  developed  Iowa 
by  building  the  railroads.  He  was  always  in 
the  county  convention,  and  preferred  to  serve 
on  the  committee  on  credentials,  and  leave  to 
others  the  more  showy  work  of  membership  in 
the  committee  on  resolutions.  He  believed  in 
education,  provided  it  did  not  unsettle  things. 
He  had  a  good  deal  of  Latin  and  some  Greek, 
and  lived  on  a  farm  rather  than  in  a  fine 
house  in  the  county  seat  because  of  his  lack 
of  financial  ability.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
had  been  too  strictly  scrupulous  to  do  the 
things — such  as  dealing  in  lands  belonging  to 
eastern  speculators  who  were  not  advised  as 
to  their  values,  speculating  in  county  warrants, 
buying  up  tax  titles  with  county  money,  and 
the  like — by  which  his  fellow-politicians  who 
held  office  in  the  early  years  of  the  county  had 
founded  their  fortunes.  A  very  respectable, 
honest,  American  tory  was  the  colonel,  fond  of 


64  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

his  political  sway,  and  rather  soured  by  the 
fact  that  it  was  passing  from  him.  He  had 
now  broken  with  Cummins  and  Dolliver  as  he 
%ad  done  years  ago  with  Weaver  and  later  with 
Larrabee — and  this  breach  was  very  important 
to  him,  whether  they  were  greatly  concerned 
about  it  or  not. 

Such  being  her  family  history,  Jennie  was 
something  of  a  politician  herself.  She  was  in 
no  way  surprised  when  approached  by  party 
managers  on  the  subject  of  accepting  the  nomi 
nation  for  county  superintendent  of  schools. 
Colonel  Woodruff  could  deliver  some  delegates 
to  his  daughter,  though  he  rather  shied  at  the 
proposal  at  first,  but  on  thinking  it  over, 
warmed  somewhat  to  the  notion  of  having  a 
Woodruff  on  the  county  pay-roll  once  more. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD 

OING  to  the  rally,  James?" 
Jim  had  finished  his  supper,  and  yearned 
for  a  long  evening  in  his  attic  den  with  his 
cheap  literature.  But  as  the  district  school 
master  he  was  to  some  extent  responsible  for 
the  protection  of  the  school  property,  and  felt 
some  sense  of  duty  as  to  exhibiting  an  interest 
in  public  affairs. 

"I  guess  I'll  have  to  go,  mother,"  he  replied 
regretfully.  "I  want  to  see  Mr.  Woodruff  about 
borrowing  his  Babcock  milk  tester,  and  I'll  go 
that  way.  I  guess  I'll  go  on  to  the  meeting." 

He  kissed  his  mother  when  he  went — a  habit 
from  which  he  never  deviated,  and  another  of 
those  personal  peculiarities  which  had  marked 
him  as  different  from  the  other  boys  of  the 
neighborhood.  His  mother  urged  his  overcoat 
upon  him  in  vain — for  Jim's  overcoat  was  dis- 

65 


66  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

tinctly  a  bad  one,  while  his  best  suit,  now  worn 
every  day  as  a  concession  to  his  scholastic 
position,  still  looked  passably  well  after  several 
weeks  of  schoolroom  duty.  She  pressed  him 
to  wear  a  muffler  about  his  neck,  but  he  de 
clined  that  also.  He  didn't  need  it,  he  said; 
but  he  was  thinking  of  the  incongruity  of  a 
muffler  with  no  overcoat.  It  seemed  more 
logical  to  assume  that  the  weather  was  milder 
than  it  really  was,  on  that  sharp  October  even 
ing,  and  appear  at  his  best,  albeit  rather  aware 
of  the  cold.  Jennie  was  at  home,  and  he  was 
likely  to  see  and  be  seen  of  her. 

"You  can  borrow  that  tester,"  said  the 
colonel,  "and  the  cows  that  go  with  it,  if  you 
can  use  'em.  They  ain't  earning  their  keep 
here.  But  how  does  the  milk  tester  fit  into 
the  curriculum  of  the  school?  A  decoration?" 

"We  want  to  make  a  few  tests  of  the  cows 
in  the  neighborhood,"  answered  Jim.  "Just 
another  of  my  fool  notions." 

"All  right,"  said  the  colonel.  "Take  it  along. 
Going  to  the  speakin'?" 

"Certainly,  he's  going,"  said  Jennie,  entering. 
"This  is  my  meeting,  Jim." 


JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD    67 

"Surely,  I'm  going,"  assented  Jim.  "And  I 
think  I'll  run  along." 

"I  wish  we  had  room  for  you  in  the  car," 
said  the  colonel.  "But  I'm  going  around  by 
Bronson's  to  pick  up  the  speaker,  and  I'll  have 
a  chuck-up  load." 

"Not  so  much  of  a  load  as  you  think,"  said 
Jennie.  "I'm  going  with  Jim.  The  walk  will 
do  me  good." 

Any  candidate  warms  to  her  voting  popula 
tion  just  before  election;  but  Jennie  had  a 
special  kindness  for  Jim.  He  was  no  longer 
a  farm-hand.  The  fact  that  he  was  coming 
to  be  a  center  of  disturbance  in  the  district, 
and  that  she  quite  failed  to  understand  how 
his  eccentric  behavior  could  be  harmonized 
with  those  principles  of  teaching  which  she 
had  imbibed  at  the  state  normal  school  in 
itself  lifted  him  nearer  to  equality  with  her. 
A  public  nuisance  is  really  more  respectable 
than  a  nonentity. 

She  gave  Jim  a  thrill  as  she  passed  through 
the  gate  that  he  opened  for  her.  White  moon 
light  on  her  white  furs  suggested  purity,  exal 
tation,  the  essence  of  womanhood — things  far 


68  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

finer  in  the  woman  of  twenty-seven  than  the 
glamour  thrown  over  him  by  the  schoolgirl 
of  sixteen. 

Jim  gave  her  no  thrill;  for  he  looked  gaunt 
and  angular  in  his  skimpy,  ready-made  suit,  too 
short  in  legs  and  sleeves,  and  too  thin  for  the 
season.  Yet,  as  they  walked  along,  Jim  grew 
upon  her.  He  strode  on  with  immense  strides, 
made  slow  to  accommodate  her  shorter  steps, 
and  embarrassing  her  by  his  entire  absence  of 
effort  to  keep  step.  For  all  that,  he  lifted  his 
face  to  the  stars,  and  he  kept  silence,  save  for 
certain  fragments  of  his  thoughts,  in  dropping 
which  he  assumed  that  she,  like  himself,  was 
filled  with  the  grandeur  of  the  sparkling  sky,  its 
vast  moon,  plowing  like  an  astronomical  liner 
through  the  cloudlets  of  a  wool-pack.  He 
pointed  out  the  great  open  spaces  in  the  Milky 
Way,  wondering  at  their  emptiness,  and  at  the 
fact  that  no  telescope  can  find  stars  in  them. 

They  stopped  and  looked.  Jim  laid  his  hard 
hands  on  the  shoulders  of  her  white  fur  col 
larette. 

"What's  the  use  of  political  meetings,"  said 
Jim,  "when  you  and  I  can  stand  here  and  think 


JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD  69 

our  way  out,  even  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
Universe?" 

"A  wonderful  journey,"  said  she,  not  quite 
understanding  his  mood,  but  very  respectful  to 
it. 

"And  together,"  said  Jim.  "I'd  like  to  go  on 
a  long,  long  journey  with  you  to-night,  Jennie, 
to  make  up  for  the  years  since  we  went  any 
where  together." 

"And  we  shouldn't  have  come  together 
to-night,"  said  Jennie,  getting  back  to  earth, 
"if  I  hadn't  exercised  my  leap-year  privilege." 

She  slipped  her  arm  in  his,  and  they  went 
on  in  a  rather  intimate  way. 

"I'm  not  to  blame,  Jennie,"  said  he.  "You 
know  that  at  any  time  I'd  have  given  any 
thing — anything — " 

"And  even  now,"  said  Jennie,  taking 
advantage  of  his  depleted  stock  of  words,  "while 
we  roam  beyond  the  Milky  Way,  we  aren't 
getting  any  votes  for  me  for  county  superin 
tendent." 

Jim  said  nothing.  He  was  quite,  quite 
reestablished  on  the  earth. 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  be  elected,  Jim?" 


70  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Jim  seemed  to  ponder  this  for  some  time — a 
period  of  taking  the  matter  under  advisement 
which  caused  Jennie  to  drop  his  arm  and  busy 
herself  with  her  skirts. 

"Yes,"  said  Jim,  at  last;  "of  course  I  do." 

Nothing  more  was  said  until  they  reached 
the  schoolhouse  door. 

"Well,"  said  Jennie  rather  indignantly,  "I'm 
glad  there  are  plenty  of  voters  who  are  more 
enthusiastic  about  me  than  you  seem  to  be!" 

More  interesting  to  a  keen  observer  than 
the  speeches,  were  the  unusual  things  in  the 
room  itself.  To  be  sure,  there  were  on  the 
blackboards  exercises  and  outlines,  of  lessons 
in  language,  history,  mathematics,  geography 
and  the  like.  But  these  were  not  the  usual 
things  taken  from  text-books.  The  problems  in 
arithmetic  were  calculations  as  to  the  feeding 
value  of  various  rations  for  live  stock,  records 
of  laying  hens  and  computation  as  to  the  excess 
of  value  in  eggs  produced  over  the  cost  of  feed. 
Pinned  to  the  wall  were  market  reports  on  all 
sorts  of  farm  products,  and  especially  numerous 
were  the  statistics  on  the  prices  of  cream  and 
butter.  There  were  files  of  farm  papers  piled 


JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD  71 

about,  and  racks  of  agricultural  bulletins.  In 
one  corner  of  the  room  was  a  typewriting  ma 
chine,  and  in  another  a  sewing  machine.  Parts 
of  an  old  telephone  were  scattered  about  on 
the  teacher's  desk.  A  model  of  a  piggery  stood 
on  a  shelf,  done  in  cardboard.  Instead  of  the 
usual  collection  of  text-books  in  the  desk,  there 
were  hectograph  copies  of  exercises,  reading 
lessons,  arithmetical  tables  and  essays  on 
various  matters  relating  to  agriculture,  all  of 
which  were  accounted  for  by  two  or  three 
hand-made  hectographs — a  very  fair  sort  of 
printing  plant — lying  on  a  table.  The  members 
of  the  school  board  were  there,  looking  on 
these  evidences  of  innovation  with  wonder  and 
more  or  less  disfavor.  Things  were  disorderly. 
The  text-books  recently  adopted  by  the  board 
against  some  popular  protest  had  evidently 
been  pitched,  neck  and  crop,  out  of  the  school 
by  the  man  whom  Bonner  had  termed  a  dub. 
It  was  a  sort  of  contempt  for  the  powers 
that  be. 

Colonel  Woodruff  was  in  the  chair.     After 
the  speechifying  was  over,  and  the  stereotyped, 


72  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

though  rather  illogical,  appeal  had  been  made 
for  voters  of  the  one  party  to  cast  the  straight 
ticket,  and  for  those  of  the  other  faction  to 
scratch,  the  colonel  rose  to  adjourn  the  meeting. 

Newton  Bronson,  safely  concealed  behind 
taller  people,  called  out,  "Jim  Irwin!  speech!" 

There  was  a  giggle,  a  slight  sensation,  and 
many  voices  joined  in  the  call  for  the  new 
schoolmaster. 

Colonel  Woodruff  felt  the  unwisdom  of 
ignoring  the  demand.  Probably  he  relied  upon 
Jim's  discretion  and  expected  a  declination. 

Jim  arose,  seedy  and  lank,  and  the  voices 
ceased,  save  for  another  suppressed  titter. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Jim,  "whether  this  call 
upon  me  is  a  joke  or  not.  If  it  is,  it  isn't  a 
practical  one,  for  I  can't  talk.  I  don't  care 
much  about  parties  or  politics.  I  don't  know 
whether  I'm  a  Democrat,  a  Republican  or  a 
Populist." 

This  caused  a  real  sensation.  The  nerve  of 
the  fellow!  Really,  it  must  in  justice  be  said, 
Jim  was  losing  himself  in  a  desire  to  tell  his 
true  feelings.  He  forgot  all  about  Jennie  and 


JIM  TALKS  THE  WEATHER  COLD  73 

her  candidacy — about  everything  except  his 
real,  true  feelings.  This  proves  that  he  was  no 
politician. 

"I  don't  see  much  in  this  county  campaign 
that  interests  me/'  he  went  on — and  Jennie 
Woodruff  reddened,  while  her  seasoned  father 
covered  his  mouth  with  his  hand  to  conceal  a 
smile.  "The  politicians  come  out  into  the  farm 
ing  districts  every  campaign  and  get  us  hay 
seeds  for  anything  they  want.  They  always 
have  got  us.  They've  got  us  again!  They 
give  us  clodhoppers  the  glad  hand,  a  cheap 
cigar,  and  a  cheaper  smile  after  election ; — and 
that's  all.  I  know  it,  you  all  know  it,  they 
know  it.  I  don't  blame  them  so  very  much. 
The  trouble  is  we  don't  ask  them  to  do  anything 
better.  I  want  a  new  kind  of  rural  school; 
but  I  don't  see  any  prospect,  no  matter  how 
this  election  goes,  for  any  change  in  them.  We 
in  the  Woodruff  District  will  have  to  work  out 
our  own  salvation.  Our  political  ring  never'll 
do  anything  but  the  old  things.  They  don't 
want  to,  and  they  haven't  sense  enough  to  do 
it  if  they  did.  That's  all — and  I  don't  suppose 
I  should  have  said  as  much  as  I  have!" 


74  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

There  was  stark  silence  for  a  moment  when  he 
sat  down,  and  then  as  many  cheers  for  Jim  as 
for  the  principal  speaker  of  the  evening,  cheers 
mingled  with  titters  and  catcalls.  Jim  felt  a 
good  deal  as  he  had  done  when  he  knocked 
down  Mr.  Dilly's  chauffeur — rather  degraded 
and  humiliated,  as  if  he  had  made  an  ass  of 
himself.  And  as  he  walked  out  of  the  door, 
the  future  county  superintendent  passed  by 
him  in  high  displeasure,  and  walked  home  with 
some  one  else. 

Jim  found  the  weather  much  colder  than  it 
had  been  while  coming.  He  really  needed  an 
Eskimo's  fur  suit. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  NEW  WINE 

IN  the  little  strip  of  forest  which  divided  the 
sown  from  the  Iowa  sown  wandered  two 
boys  in  earnest  converse.  They  seemed  to  be 
Boy  Trappers,  and  from  their  backloads  of 
steel-traps  one  of  them  might  have  been  Frank 
Merriwell,  and  the  other  Dead-Shot  Dick. 
However,  though  it  was  only  mid-December, 
and  the  fur  of  all  wild  varmints  was  at  its 
primest,  they  were  bringing  their  traps  into  the 
settlements,  instead  of  taking  them  afield. 
"The  settlements"  were  represented  by  the 
ruinous  dwelling  of  the  Simmses,  and  the  boy 
who  resembled  Frank  Merriwell  was  Raymond 
Simms.  The  other,  who  was  much  more  bar 
barously  accoutered,  whose  overalls  were 
fringed,  who  wore  a  cartridge  belt  about  his 
person,  and  carried  hatchet,  revolver,  and  a 
long  knife  with  a  deerfoot  handle,  and  who  so 

75 


76  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

studiously  looked  like  Dead-Shot  Dick,  was  our 
old  friend  of  the  road  gang,  Newton  Bronson. 
On  the  right,  on  the  left,  a  few  rods  would 
have  brought  the  boys  out  upon  the  levels  of 
rich  corn-fields,  and  in  sight  of  the  long  rows 
of  cottonwoods,  willows,  box-elders  and  soft 
maples  along  the  straight  roads,  and  of  the  huge 
red  barns,  each  of  which  possessed  a  numerous 
progeny  of  outbuildings,  among  which  the 
dwelling  held  a  dubious  headship.  But  here, 
they  could  be  the  Boy  Trappers — a  thin  fringe 
of  bushes  and  trees  made  of  the  little  valley  a 
forest  to  the  imagination  of  the  boys.  Newton 
put  down  his  load,  and  sat  upon  a  stump  to 
rest. 

Raymond  Simms  was  dimly  conscious  of  a 
change  in  Newton  since  the  day  when  they 
met  and  helped  select  Colonel  Woodruff's  next 
year's  seed  corn.  Newton's  mother  had  a 
mother's  confidence  that  Newton  was  now  a 
good  boy,  who  had  been  led  astray  by  other 
boys,  but  had  reformed.  Jim  Irwin  had  a 
distinct  feeling  of  optimism.  Newton  had  quit 
tobacco  and  beer,  casually  stating  to  Jim  that 
he  was  "in  training."  Since  Jim  had  shown 


THE  NEW  WINE  77 

his  ability  to  administer  a  knockout  to  that 
angry  chauffeur,  he  seemed  to  this  hobbledehoy 
peculiarly  a  proper  person  for  athletic  confi 
dences.  Newton's  mind  seemed  gradually 
filling  up  with  interests  that  displaced  the 
psychological  complex  out  of  which  oozed  the 
bad  stories  and  filthy  allusion.  Jim  attributed 
much  of  this  to  the  clear  mountain  atmosphere 
which  surrounded  Raymond  Simms,  the 
ignorant  barbarian  driven  out  of  his  native 
hills  by  a  feud.  Raymond  was  of  the  open 
spaces,  and  refused  to  hear  fetid  things  that 
seemed  out  of  place  in  them.  There  was  a 
dignity  which  impressed  Newton,  in  the  blank 
gaze  with  which  Raymond  greeted  Newton's 
sallies  that  were  wont  to  set  the  village  pool 
room  in  a  roar ;  but  how  could  you  have  a  fuss 
with  a  feller  who  knew  all  about  trapping,  who 
had  seen  a  man  shot,  who  had  shot  a  bear,  who 
had  killed  wild  turkeys,  who  had  trapped  a 
hundred  dollars'  worth  of  furs  in  one  winter, 
who  knew  the  proper  "sets"  for  all  fur-bearing 
animals,  and  whom  you  liked,  and  who  liked 
you? 

As  the  reason  for  Newton's  improvement  in 


78  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

manner  of  living,  Raymond,  out  of  his  own 
experience,  would  have  had  no  hesitation  in 
naming  the  school  and  the  schoolmaster. 

"I  wouldn't  go  back  on  a  friend,"  said  New 
ton,  seated  on  the  stump  with  his  traps  on  the 
ground  at  his  feet,  "the  way  you're  going  back 
on  me.''7 

"You  got  no  call  to  talk  thataway,"  replied 
the  mountain  boy.  "How'm  I  goin'  back  on 
you?" 

"We  was  goin'  to  trap  all  winter," 
asseverated  Newton,  "and  next  winter  we  were 
giin'  up  in  the  north  woods  together." 

"You  know,"  said  Raymond  somberly,  "that 
we  cain't  run  any  trap  line  and  do  whut  we 
got  to  do  to  he'p  Mr.  Jim." 

Newton  sat  mute  as  one  having  no  rejoinder. 

"Mr.  Jim,"  went  on  Raymond,  "needs  all  the 
he'p  every  kid  in  this  settlement  kin  give  him. 
He's  the  best  friend  I  ever  had.  I'm  a  pore 
ignerant  boy,  an'  he  teaches  me  how  to  do 
things  that  will  make  me  something." 

"Darn  it  all !"  said  Newton. 

"You   know,"    said    Raymond,    "that   you'd 


THE  NEW  WINE  79 

think  mahgty  small  of  me,  if  I'd  desert  Mr.  Jim 
Irwin." 

"Well,  then,"  replied  Newton,  seizing  his 
traps  and  throwing  them  across  his  shoulder, 
"come  on  with  the  traps,  and  shut  up !  What'll 
we  do  when  the  school  board  gets  Jennie  Wood 
ruff  to  revoke  his  certificate  and  make  him  quit 
teachin',  hey?" 

"Nobody'll  eveh  do  that,"  said  Raymond.  "I'd 
set  in  the  schoolhouse  do*  with  my  rifle  and 
shoot  anybody  that'd  come  to  th'ow  Mr.  Jim 
outen  the  school." 

"Not  in  this  country,"  said  Newton.  "This 
ain't  a  gun  country." 

"But  it  orto  be  either  a  justice  kentry,  or  a 
gun  kentry,"  replied  the  mountain  boy.  "It 
stands  to  reason  it  must  be  one  'r  the  otheh, 
Newton." 

"No,  it  don't,  neither,"  said  Newton  dog 
matically. 

"Why  should  they  th'ow  Mr.  Jim  outen  the 
school?"  inquired  Raymond.  "Ain't  he  teachin' 
us  right?" 

Newton  explained  for  the  tenth  time  that  his 


80  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

father,  Mr.  Con  Bonner  and  Mr.  Haakon  Peter 
son  had  not  meant  to  hire  Jim  Irwin  at  all,  but 
each  had  voted  for  him  so  that  he  might  have 
one  vote.  They  were  all  against  him  from  the 
first,  but  they  had  not  known  how  to  get  rid 
of  him.  Now,  however,  Jim  had  done  so  many 
things  that  no  teacher  was  supposed  to  do,  and 
had  left  undone  so  many  things  that  teachers 
were  bound  by  custom  to  perform,  that  New 
ton's  father  and  Mr.  Bonner  and  Mr.  Peterson 
had  made  up  up  their  minds  that  they  would  call 
upon  him  to  resign,  and  if  he  wouldn't,  they 
would  "turn  him  out"  in  some  way.  And  the 
best  way  if  they  could  do  it,  would  be  to  induce 
County  Superintendent  Woodruff,  who  didn't 
like  Jim  since  the  speech  he  made  at  the  po 
litical  meeting,  to  revoke  his  certificate. 

"What  wrong's  he  done  committed?"  asked 
Raymond.  "I  don't  know  what  teachers  air 
supposed  to  do  in  this  kentry,  but  Mr.  Jim 
seems  to  be  the  only  shore-enough  teacher  I 
ever  see!" 

"He  don't  teach  out  of  the  books  the  school 
board  adopted,"  replied  Newton. 


THE  NEW  WINE  81 

"But  he  makes  up  better  lessons,"  urged  Ray 
mond.  "An"  all  the  things  we  do  in  school, 
he'ps  us  make  a  livin'." 

"He  begins  at  eight  in  the  mornin',"  said 
Newton,  "an*  he  has  some  of  us  there  till  half 
past  five,  and  comes  back  in  the  evening.  And 
every  Saturday,  some  of  the  kids  are  doin' 
something  at  the  schoolhouse." 

"They  don't  pay  him  for  overtime,  do  they?" 
queried  Raymond.  "Well,  then,  they  orto, 
instid  of  turnin'  him  out!" 

"Well,  they'll  turn  him  out!"  prophesied 
Newton.  "I'm  havin'  more  fun  in  school  than 
I  ever — an'  that's  why  I'm  with  you  on  this 
quittin'  trapping — but  they'll  get  Jim,  all 
right!" 

"I'm  having  something  betteh'n  fun,"  replied 
Raymond.  "My  pap  has  never  understood  this 
kentry,  an'  we-all  has  had  bad  times  hyeh ;  but 
Mr.  Jim  an'  I  have  studied  out  how  I  can  make 
a  betteh  livin'  next  year — and  pap  says  we  kin 
go  on  the  way  Mr.  Jim  says.  I'll  work  for 
Colonel  Woodruff  a  part  of  the  time,  an'  pap 
kin  make  corn  in  the  biggest  field.  It  seems 
we  didn't  do  our  work  right  last  year — an'  in 


82  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

a  couple  of  years,  with  the  increase  of  the 
hawgs,  an'  the  land  we  kin  get  under  plow  .    ., 

99 

«'    ••!     •.•         • 

Raymond  was  off  on  his  pet  dream  of  becom 
ing  something  better  than  the  oldest  of  the 
Simms  tribe  of  outcasts,  and  Newton  was  sub 
consciously  impressed  by  the  fact  that  never 
for  a  moment  did  Raymond's  plans  fail  to  in 
clude  the  elevation  with  him  of  Calista  and 
Jinnie  and  Buddy  and  Pap  and  Mam.  It  was 
taken  for  granted  that  the  Simmses  sank  or 
swam  together,  whether  their  antagonists  were 
poverty  and  ignorance,  or  their  ancient  foes, 
the  Hobdays.  Newton  drew  closer  to  Ray 
mond's  side. 

It  was  still  an  hour  before  nine — when  the 
rural  school  traditionally  "takes  up" — when 
the  boys  had  stored  their  traps  in  a  shed  at  the 
Bronson  home,  and  walked  on  to  the  school- 
house.  That  rather  scabby  and  weathered 
edifice  was  already  humming  with  industry  of 
a  sort.  In  spite  of  the  hostility  of  the  school 
board,  and  the  aloofness  of  the  patrons  of  the 
school,  the  pupils  were  clearly  interested  in 
Jim  Irwin's  system  of  rural  education.  Never 


THE  NEW  WINE  83 

had  the  attendance  been  so  large  or  regular; 
and  one  of  the  reasons  for  sessions  before  nine 
and  after  four  was  the  inability  of  the  teacher 
to  attend  to  the  needs  of  his  charges  in  the 
five  and  a  half  hours  called  "school  hours." 

This,  however,  was  not  the  sole  reason.  It 
was  the  new  sort  of  work  which  commanded 
the  attention  of  Eaymond  and  Newton  as  they 
entered.  This  morning,  Jim  had  arranged  in 
various  sorts  of  dishes  specimens  of  grain  and 
grass  seeds.  By  each  was  a  card  bearing  the 
name  of  the  farm  from  which  one  of  the  older 
boys  or  girls  had  brought  it.  "Wheat,  Scotch 
Fife,  from  the  farm  of  Columbus  Smith." 
"Timothy,  or  Herd's  Grass,  from  the  farm  of 
A.  B.  Talcott."  "Alsike  Clover,  from  the  farm 
of  B.  B.  Hamm."  Each  lot  was  in  a  small  cloth 
bag  which  had  been  made  by  one  of  the  little 
girls  as  a  sewing  exercise;  and  each  card  had 
been  written  as  a  lesson  in  penmanship  by  one 
of  the  younger  pupils,  and  contained,  in  addi 
tion  to  the  data  above  mentioned,  heads  under 
which  to  enter  the  number  of  grains  of  the 
seed  examined,  the  number  which  grew,  the 
percentage  of  viability,  the  number  of  alien 


84  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

seeds  of  weeds  and  other  sorts,  the  names  of 
these  adulterants,  the  weight  of  true  and 
vitalized,  and  of  foul  and  alien  and  dead  seeds, 
the  value  per  bushel  in  the  local  market  of  the 
seeds  under  test,  and  the  real  market  values 
of  the  samples,  after  dead  seeds  and  alien 
matter  had  been  subtracted. 

"Now  get  busy,  here,"  cried  Jim  Irwin. 
"We're  late!  Raymond,  you've  a  quick  eye — 
you  count  seeds — and  you,  Calista,  and  Mary 
Smith — and  mind,  next  year's  crop  may  depend 
on  making  no  mistakes !" 

"Mistakes!"  scoffed  Mary  Smith,  a  dumpy 
girl  of  fourteen.  "We  don't  make  mistakes 
any  more,  teacher." 

It  was  a  frolic,  rather  than  a  task.  All  had 
come  with  a  perfect  understanding  that  this 
early  attendance  was  quite  illegal,  and  not  to 
be  required  of  them — but  they  came. 

"Newt,"  suggested  Jim,  "get  busy  on  the 
percentage  problems  for  that  second  class  in 
arithmetic." 

"Sure,"  said  Newt.  "Let's  see  ....  Good 
seed  is  the  base,  and  bad  seed  and  dead  seed 
the  percentage — find  the  rate  .  .  .  .  " 


THE  NEW  WINE  85 

"Oh,  you  know!"  said  Jim.  "Make  them 
easy  arid  plain  and  as  many  as  you  can  get 
out — and  be  sure  that  you  name  the  farm  every 
pop!" 

"Got  you!"  answered  Newton,  and  in  a  fine 
frenzy  went  at  the  job  of  creating  a  text-book 
in  arithmetic. 

"Buddy,"  said  Jim,  patting  the  youngest 
Simms  on  the  head,  "you  and  Virginia  can 
print  the  reading  lessons  this  morning,  can't 
you?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Jim,"  answered  both  McGeehee 
Simms  and  his  sister  cheerily.  "Where's  the 
copy?" 

"Here,"  answered  the  teacher,  handing  each 
a  typewritten  sheet  for  use  as  the  original  from 
which  the  young  mountaineers  were  to  make 
hectograph  copies,  "and  mind  you  make  good 
copies!  Bettina  Hansen  pretty  nearly  cried 
last  night  because  she  had  to  write  them  over 
so  many  times  on  the  typewriter  before  she 
got  them  all  right." 

The  reading  lesson  was  an  article  on  corn 
condensed  from  a  farm  paper,  and  a  selection 
from  Hiawatha — the  Indian-corn  myth. 


86  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"We'll  be  careful,  Mr.  Jim,"  said  Buddy. 

Half  past  eight,  and  only  half  an  hour  until 
school  would  officially  be  "called." 

Newton  Bronson  was  writing  in  aniline  ink 
for  the  hectographs,  such  problems  as  these: 

"If  Mr.  Ezra  Bronson's  seed  wheat  carries 
in  each  250  grains,  ten  cockle  grains,  fifteen 
rye  grains,  twenty  fox-tail  seeds,  three  iron- 
weed  seeds,  two  wild  oats  grains,  twenty-seven 
wild  buckwheat  seeds,  one  wild  morning-glory 
seed,  and  eighteen  lamb's  quarter  seeds,  what 
percentage  of  the  seeds  sown  is  wheat,  and 
what  foul  seed?" 

"If  in  each  250  grains  of  wheat  in  Mr. 
Bronson's  bins,  30  are  cracked,  dead  or  other 
wise  not  capable  of  sprouting,  what  per  cent, 
of  the  seed  sown  will  grow?" 

"If  the  foul  seed  and  dead  wheat  amount  to 
one-eighth  by  weight  of  the  mass,  what  did 
Mr.  Bronson  pay  per  bushel  for  the  good  wheat, 
if  it  cost  him  $1.10  in  the  bin,  and  what  per 
cent,  did  he  lose  by  the  adulterations  and  the 
poor  wheat?" 

Jim  ran  over  these  rapidly.  "Your  mathe 
matics  is  good,  Newton,"  said  the  schoolmaster, 


THE  NEW  WINE  87 

"but  if  you  expect  to  pass  in  penmanship,  you'll 
have  to  take  more  pains." 

"How  about  the  grammar?"  asked  Newton. 
"The  writing  is  pretty  bad,  I'll  own  up." 

"The  grammar  is  good  this  morning.  You're 
gradually  mastering  the  art  of  stating  a  prob 
lem  in  arithmetic  in  English — and  that's  im 
provement." 

The  hands  of  Jim  Irwin's  dollar  watch 
gradually  approached  the  position  indicating 
nine  o'clock — at  which  time  the  schoolmaster 
rapped  on  his  desk  and  the  school  came  to 
order.  Then,  for  a  while,  it  became  like  other 
schools.  A  glance  over  the  room  enabled  him 
to  enter  the  names  of  the  absentees,  and  those 
tardy.  There  was  a  song  by  the  school,  the 
recitation  in  concert  of  Little  Brown  Hands, 
some  general  remarks  and  directions  by  the 
teacher,  and  the  primary  pupils  came  forward 
for  their  reading  exercises.  A  few  classes  be 
gan  poring  over  their  text-books,  but  most  of 
the  pupils  had  their  work  passed  out  to  them  in 
the  form  of  hectograph  copies  of  exercises 
prepared  in  the  school  itself. 

As  the  little  ones  finished  their  recitations, 


88  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

they  passed  to  the  dishes  of  wheat,  and  began 
aiding  Raymond's  squad  in  the  counting  and 
classifying  of  the  various  seeds.  They  counted 
to  five,  and  they  counted  the  fives.  They 
laughed  in  a  subdued  way,  and  whispered  con 
stantly,  but  nobody  seemed  disturbed. 

"Do  they  help  much,  Calista?"  asked  the 
teacher,  as  the  oldest  Simms  girl  came  to  his 
desk  for  more  wheat. 

"No,  seh,  not  much,"  replied  Calista,  beam 
ing,  "but  they  don't  hold  us  back  any — and 
maybe  they  do  he'p  a  little." 

"That's  good,"  said  Jim,  "and  they  enjoy 
it,  don't  they?" 

"Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Jim,"  assented  Calista,  "and 
the  way  Buddy  is  learnin'  to  count  is  fine! 
They-all  will  soon  know  all  the  addition  they 
is,  and  a  lot  of  multiplication.  Angie  Talcott 
knows  the  kinds  of  seeds  better'n  what  I  do!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES 

>TpHE  day  passed.  Four  o'clock  came.  In 
*  order  that  all  might  reach  home  for  supper, 
there  was  no  staying,  except  that  Newt  Bron- 
son  and  Raymond  Simms  remained  to  sweep 
and  dust  the  schoolroom,  and  prepare  kindling 
for  the  next  morning's  fire — a  work  they  had 
taken  upon  themselves,  so  as  to  enable  the 
teacher  to  put  on  the  blackboards  such  outlines 
for  the  morrow's  class  work  as  might  be  re 
quired.  Jim  was  writing  on  the  board  a  list 
of  words  constituting  a  spelling  exercise.  They 
were  not  from  the  text-book,  but  grew  naturally 
out  of  the  study  of  the  seed  wheat — "cockle/* 
"morning-glory,"  "convolvulus,"  "viable,"  "via 
bility,"  "sprouting,"  "iron-weed"  and  the  like. 
A  tap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  Raymond 
Simms  opened  it. 

In  filed  three  women — and  Jim  Irwin  knew 
89 


90  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

as  he  looked  at  them  that  he  was  greeting  a 
deputation,  and  felt  that  it  meant  a  struggle. 
For  they  were  the  wives  of  the  members  of 
the  school  board.  He  placed  for  them  the  three 
available  chairs,  and  in  the  absence  of  any  for 
himself  remained  standing  before  them,  a  gaunt 
shabby-looking  revolutionist  at  the  bar  of 
settled  usage  and  fixed  public  opinion. 

Mrs.  Haakon  Peterson  was  a  tall  blonde 
woman  who,  when  she  spoke  betrayed  her 
Scandinavian  origin  by  the  northern  burr  to 
her  "r's,"  and  a  slight  difficulty  with  her  "j's," 
her  "y's"  and  long  "a's."  She  was  slow-spoken 
and  dignified,  and  Jim  felt  an  instinctive  re 
spect  for  her  personality.  Mrs.  Bronson  was 
a  good  motherly  woman,  noted  for  her 
housekeeping,  and  for  her  church  activities. 
She  looked  oftener  at  her  son,  and  his  friend 
Raymond  than  at  the  schoolmaster.  Mrs.  Bon- 
ner  was  the  most  voluble  of  the  three,  and  was 
the  only  one  who  shook  hands  with  Jim;  but 
in  spite  of  her  rather  offhand  manner,  Jim 
sensed  in  the  little,  black-eyed  Irishwoman  the 
real  commander  of  the  expedition  against 
him— for  such  he  knew  it  to  be. 


• 


They  were  the  wives  of  the  members  of  the  school  board 


AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES  91 

"You  may  think  it  strange  of  us  coming 
after  hours,"  said  she,  "but  we  wanted  to 
speak  to  you,  teacher,  without  the  children 
here." 

"I  wish  more  of  the  parents  would  call," 
said  Jim.  "At  any  hour  of  the  day." 

"Or  night  either,  I  dare  say,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Bonner.  "I  hear  you've  the  scholars  here  at 
all  hours,  Jim." 

Jim  smiled  his  slow  patient  smile. 

"We  do  break  the  union  rules,  I  guess,  Mrs. 
Bonner,"  said  he;  "there  seems  to  be  more  to 
do  than  we  can  get  done  during  school 
hours." 

"What  right  have  ye,"  struck  in  Mrs.  Bonner, 
"to  be  burning  the  district's  fuel,  and  wearing 
out  the  school's  property  out  of  hours  like 
that — not  that  it's  anny  of  my  business,"  she 
interposed,  hastily,  as  if  she  had  been  diverted 
from  her  chosen  point  of  attack.  "I  just 
thought  of  it,  that's  all.  What  we  came  for, 
Mr.  Irwin,  is  to  object  to  the  way  the  teachin's 
being  done — corn  and  wheat,  and  hogs  and  the 
like,  instead  of  the  learnin'  schools  was  made 
to  teach." 


92  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Schools  were  made  to  prepare  children  for 
life,  weren't  they,  Mrs.  Bonner?" 

"To  be  sure,"  went  on  Mrs.  Bonner,  "I  can 
see  an*  the  whole  district  can  see  that  it's 
easier  for  a  man  that's  been  a  farm-hand  to 
teach  farm-hand  knowledge,  than  the  learnin' 
schools  was  set  up  to  teach;  but  if  so  be  he 
hasn't  the  book  education  to  do  the  right  thing, 
we  think  he  should  get  out  and  give  a  real 
teacher  a  chance." 

"What  am  I  neglecting?"  asked  Jim  mildly. 

Mrs.  Bonner  seemed  unprepared  for  the 
question,  and  sat  for  an  instant  mute.  Mrs. 
Peterson  interposed  her  attack  while  Mrs.  Bon 
ner  might  be  recovering  her  wind. 

"We  people  that  have  had  a  hard  time,"  she 
said  in  a  precise  way  which  seemed  to  show 
that  she  knew  exactly  what  she  wanted,  "want 
to  give  our  boys  and  girls  a  chance  to  live 
easier  lives  than  we  lived.  We  don't  want  our 
children  taught  about  nothing  but  work.  We 
want  higher  things." 

"Mrs.  Peterson,"  said  Jim  earnestly,  "we 
must  have  first  things  first.  Making  a  living 
is  the  first  thing — and  the  highest" 


AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES  93 

"Haakon  and  I  will  look  after  making  a 
living  for  our  family,"  said  she.  "We  want 
our  children  to  learn  nice  things,  and  go  to 
high  school,  and  after  a  while  to  the  Juniwer- 
sity." 

"And  I,"  declared  Jim,  "will  send  out  from 
this  school,  if  you  will  let  me,  pupils  better 
prepared  for  higher  schools  than  have  ever 
gone  from  it — because  they  will  be  trained  to 
think  in  terms  of  action.  They  will  go  knowing 
that  thoughts  must  always  be  linked  with 
things.  Aren't  your  children  happy  in  school, 
Mrs.  Peterson?" 

"I  don't  send  them  to  school  to  be  happy, 
Yim,"  replied  Mrs.  Peterson,  calling  him  by 
the  name  most  familiarly  known  to  all  of  them ; 
"I  send  them  to  learn  to  be  higher  people  than 
their  father  and  mother.  That's  what  America 
means !" 

"They'll  be  higher  people — higher  than  their 
parents — higher  than  their  teacher — they'll  be 
efficient  farmers,  and  efficient  farmers'  wives. 
They'll  be  happy,  because  they  will  know  how 
to  use  more  brains  in  farming  than  any  lawyer 
or  doctor  or  merchant  can  possibly  use  in  his 


94  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

business.  I'm  educating  them  to  find  an  outlet 
for  genius  in  farming!" 

"It's  a  fine  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Bonner,  coming 
to  the  aid  of  her  fellow  soldiers,  "to  work  hard 
for  a  lifetime,  an*  raise  nothing  but  a  family 
of  farmers !  A  fine  thing !" 

"They  will  be  farmers  anyhow,"  cried  Jim, 
"in  spite  of  your  efforts- — ninety  out  of  every 
hundred  of  them !  And  of  the  other  ten,  nine 
will  be  wage-earners  in  the  cities,  and  wish  to 
God  they  were  back  on  the  farm;  and  the 
hundredth  one  will  succeed  in  the  city.  Shall 
we  educate  the  ninety-and-nine  to  fail,  that  the 
hundredth,  instead  of  enriching  the  rural  life 
with  his  talents,  may  steal  them  away  to  make 
the  city  stronger?  It  is  already  too  strong 
for  us  farmers.  Shall  we  drive  our  best  away 
to  make  it  stronger?" 

The  guns  of  Mrs.  Bonner  and  Mrs.  Peterson 
were  silenced  for  a  moment,  and  Mrs.  Bronson, 
after  gazing  about  at  the  typewriter,  the  hecto 
graph,  the  exhibits  of  weed  seeds,  the  Babcock 
milk  tester,  and  the  other  unscholastic  equip 
ment,  pointed  to  the  list  of  words,  and  the 
arithmetic  problems  on  the  board. 


AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES  95 

"Do  you  get  them  words  from  the  speller?" 
she  asked. 

"No,"  said  he,  "we  got  them  from  a  lesson  on 
seed  wheat." 

"Did  them  examples  come  out  of  an  arithme 
tic  book?"  cross-examined  she. 

'"No,"  said  Jim,  "we  used  problems  we  made 
ourselves.  We  were  figuring  profits  and  losses 
on  your  cows,  Mrs.  Bronson !" 

"Ezra  Bronson,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson  loftily, 
"don't  need  any  help  in  telling  what's  a  good 
cow.  He  was  farming  before  you  was  born!" 

"Like  fun,  he  don't  need  help!  He's  going 
to  dry  old  Cherry  off  and  fatten  her  for  beef; 
and  he  can  make  more  money  on  the  cream  by 
beefing  about  three  more  of  'em.  The  Babcock 
test  shows  they're  just  boarding  on  us  without 
paying  their  board !" 

The  delegation  of  matrons  ruffled  like  a  group 
of  startled  hens  at  this  interposition,  which 
was  Newton  Bronson's  effective  seizing  of  the 
opportunity  to  issue  a  progress  bulletin  in  the 
research  work  on  the  Bronson  dairy  herd. 

"Newton !"  said  his  mother,  "don't  interrupt 
me  when  I'm  talking  to  the  teacher!" 


96  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Well,  then,"  said  Newton,  "don't  tell  the 
teacher  that  pa  knew  which  cows  were  good 
and  which  were  poor.  If  any  one  in  this 
district  wants  to  know  about  their  cows  they'll 
have  to  come  to  this  shop.  And  I  can  tell  you 
that  it'll  pay  'em  to  come  too,  if  they're  going 
to  make  anything  selling  cream.  Wait  until 
we  get  out  our  reports  on  the  herds,  ma!" 

The  women  were  rather  stampeded  by  this 
onslaught  of  the  irregular  troops — especially 
Mrs.  Bronson.  She  was  placed  in  the  position 
of  a  woman  taking  a  man's  wisdom  from  her 
ne'er-do-well  son  for  the  first  time  in  her  life. 
Like  any  other  mother  in  this  position,  she 
felt  a  flutter  of  pride — but  it  was  strongly 
mingled  with  a  motherly  desire  to  spank  him. 
The  deputation  rose,  with  a  unanimous  feeling 
tliat  they  had  been  scored  upon. 

"Cows !"  scoffed  Mrs.  Peterson.  "If  we  leave 
you  in  this  yob,  Mr.  Irwin,  our  children  will 
know  nothing  but  cows  and  hens  and  soils  and 
grains — and  where  will  the  culture  come  in? 
How  will  our  boys  and  girls  appear  when  we 
get  fixed  so  we  can  move  to  town?  We  won't 
have  no  culture  at  all,  Yim!" 


AND  THE  OLD  BOTTLES  97 

"Culture!"  exclaimed  Jim.  "Why— why, 
after  ten  years  of  the  sort  of  school  I  would 
give  you  if  I  were  a  better  teacher,  and  could 
have  my  way,  the  people  of  the  cities  would 
be  begging  to  have  their  children  admitted  so 
that  they  might  obtain  real  culture — culture 
fitting  them  for  life  in  the  twentieth  cen 
tury—" 

"Don't  bother  to  get  ready  for  the  city 
children,  Jim,"  said  Mrs.  Bonner  sneeringly, 
"you  won't  be  teaching  the  Woodruff  school 
that  long." 

All  this  time,  the  dark-faced  Cracker  had 
been  glooming  from  a  corner,  earnestly  seeking 
to  fathom  the  wrongness  he  sensed  in  the 
gathering.  Now  he  came  forward. 

"I  reckon  I  may  be  making  a  mistake  to  say 
anything,"  said  he,  "f'r  we-all  is  strangers 
hyeh,  an'  we're  pore;  but  I  must  speak  out 
for  Mr.  Jim — I  must!  Don't  turn  him  out, 
folks,  f 'r  he's  done  mo'  f'r  us  than  eveh  any 
one  done  in  the  world !" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Peterson. 

"I  mean,"  said  Raymond,  "that  when  Mr.  Jim 
began  talking  school  to  us,  we  was  a  pore 


98  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

no-'count  lot  without  any  learnin',  with  nothin' 
to  talk  about  except  our  wrongs,  an*  our  ene 
mies,  and  the  meanness  of  the  Iowa  folks. 
You  see  we  didn't  understand  you-all.  An' 
now,  we  have  hope.  We  done  got  hope  from 
this  school.  We're  goin'  to  make  good  in  the 
world.  We're  getting  education.  We're  all 
learnin'  to  use  books.  My  little  sister  will  be 
as  good  as  anybody,  if  you'll  just  let  Mr.  Jim 
alone  in  this  school — as  good  as  any  one.  An' 
I'll  he'p  pap  get  a  farm,  and  we'll  work  and 
think  at  the  same  time,  an'  be  happy!" 


CHAPTER  IX 
JENNIE  ARRANGES  A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY 

npHE  great  party  magnates  who  made  up  the 
•*•  tickets  from  governor  down  to  the  lowest 
county  office,  doubtless  regarded  the  little  po 
litical  plum  shaken  off  into  the  apron  of  Miss 
Jennie  Woodruff  of  the  Woodruff  District,  as 
the  very  smallest  and  least  bloomy  of  all  the 
plums  on  the  tree ;  but  there  is  something  which 
tends  to  puff  one  up  in  the  mere  fact  of  having 
received  the  votes  of  the  people  for  any  office, 
especially  in  a  region  of  high  average  civiliza 
tion,  covering  six  hundred  or  seven  hundred 
square  miles  of  good  American  domain.  Jennie 
was  a  sensible  country  girl.  Being  sensible, 
she  tried  to  avoid  uppishness.  But  she  did  feel 
some  little  sense  of  increased  importance  as  she 
drove  her  father's  little  one-cylinder  runabout 
over  the  smooth  earth  roads,  in  the  crisp  De 
cember  weather,  just  before  Christmas. 

99 


100  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

The  weather  itself  was  stimulating,  and  she 
was  making  rapid  progress  in  the  management 
of  the  little  car  which  her  father  had  offered 
to  lend  her  for  use  in  visiting  the  one  hundred 
or  more  rural  schools  soon  to  come  under  her 
supervision.  She  rather  fancied  the  picture 
of  herself,  clothed  in  more  or  less  authority  and 
queening  it  over  her  little  army  of  teachers. 

Mr.  Haakon  Peterson  was  phlegmatically 
conscious  that  she  made  rather  an  agreeable 
picture,  as  she  stopped  her  car  alongside  his 
top  buggy  to  talk  with  him.  She  had  bright 
blue  eyes,  fluffy  brown  hair,  a  complexion 
whipped  pink  by  the  breeze,  and  she  smiled 
at  him  ingratiatingly. 

"Don't  you  think  father  is  lovely?"  said  she. 
"He  is  going  to  let  me  use  the  runabout  when 
I  visit  the  schools." 

"That  will  be  good,"  said  Haakon.  "It  will 
save  you  lots  of  time.  I  hope  you  make  the 
county  pay  for  the  gasoline." 

"I  haven't  thought  about  that,"  said  Jennie. 
"Everybody's  been  so  nice  to  me — I  want  to 
give  as  well  as  receive." 

"Why,"  said  Haakon,  "you  will  yust  begin 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  101 

to  receive  when  your  salary  begins  in  Yan- 
uary." 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Jennie.  "I've  received  much 
more  than  that  now!  You  don't  know  how 
proud  I  feel.  So  many  nice  men  I  never  knew 
before,  and  all  my  old  friends  like  you  working 
for  me  in  the  convention  and  at  the  polls,  just 
as  if  I  amounted  to  something." 

"And  you  don't  know  how  proud  I  feel," 
said  Haakon,  "to  have  in  county  office  a  little 
girl  I  used  to  hold  on  my  lap." 

In  early  times,  when  Haakon  was  a  flat- 
capped  immigrant  boy,  he  had  earned  the  initial 
payment  on  his  first  eighty  acres  of  prairie 
land  as  a  hired  man  on  Colonel  Woodruff's 
farm.  Now  he  was  a  rather  richer  man  than 
the  colonel,  and  not  a  little  proud  of  his  ascent 
to  affluence.  He  was  a  mild-spoken,  soft- voiced 
Scandinavian,  quite  completely  Americanized, 
and  possessed  of  that  aptitude  for  local  poli 
tics  which  makes  so  good  a  citizen  of  the  Nor 
wegian  and  Swede.  His  influence  was  always 
worth  fifty  to  sixty  Scandinavian  votes  in  any 
county  election.  He  was  a  good  party  man 
and  conscious  of  being  entitled  to  his  voice 


102  THE  BKOWN  MOUSE 

in  party  matters.  This  seemed  to  him  an  op 
portunity  for  exerting  a  bit  of  political 
influence. 

"Yennie,"  said  he,  "this  man  Yim  Irwin 
needs  to  be  lined  up." 

"Lined  up!    What  do  you  mean?" 

"The  way  he  is  doing  in  the  school,"  said 
Haakon,  "is  all  wrong.  If  you  can't  line  him 
up,  he  will  make  you  trouble.  We  must  look 
ahead.  Everybody  has  his  friends,  and  Yim 
Irwin  has  his  friends.  If  you  have  trouble 
with  him,  his  friends  will  be  against  you  when 
we  want  to  nominate  you  for  a  second  term. 
The  county  is  getting  close.  If  we  go  to  con- 
wention  without  your  home  delegation  it  would 
weaken  you,  and  if  we  nominate  you,  every 
piece  of  trouble  like  this  cuts  down  your  wote. 
You  ought  to  line  him  up  and  have  him  do 
right." 

"But  he  is  so  funny,"  said  Jennie. 

"He  likes  you,"  said  Haakon.  "You  can  line 
him  up." 

Jennie  blushed,  and  to  conceal  her  slight  em 
barrassment,  got  out  for  the  purpose  of  crank 
ing  her  machine. 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  103 

"But  if  I  can  not  line  him  up?"  said  she. 

"I  tank,"  said  Haakon,  "if  you  can't  line  him 
up,  you  will  have  a  chance  to  rewoke  his  cer 
tificate  when  you  take  office." 

So  Jim  Irwin  was  to  be  crushed  like  an  in 
sect.  The  little  local  gearing  of  the  big  party 
machine  was  to  crush  him.  Jennie  dimly  sensed 
the  tragedy  of  it,  but  very  dimly.  Mainly  she 
thought  of  Mr.  Peterson's  suggestion  as  to 
"lining  up"  Jim  Irwin  as  so  thoroughly  sensi 
ble  that  she  gave  it  a  good  deal  of  thought  that 
day.  She  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  resent 
ment  at  Jim  for  following  his  own  fads  and 
fancies  so  far.  We  always  resent  the  necessity 
of  crushing  any  weak  creature  which  must 
needs  be  wiped  out.  The  idea  that  there  could 
be  anything  fundamentally  sane  in  his  over* 
turning  of  the  old  and  tried  school  methods^ 
under  which  both  he  and  she  had  been  edu 
cated,  was  absurd  to  Jennie.  To  be  sure,  every 
body  had  always  favored  "more  practical  edu 
cation,"  and  Jim's  farm  arithmetic,  farm  phys 
iology,  farm  reading  and  writing,  cow-testing 
exercises,  seed  analysis,  corn  clubs  and  the  to 
mato,  poultry  and  pig  clubs  he  proposed  to 


104  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

have  in  operation  the  next  summer,  seemed 
highly  practical ;  but  to  Jennie's  mind,  the  fact 
that  they  introduced  dissension  in  the  neigh 
borhood  and  promised  to  make  her  official  life 
vexatious,  seemed  ample  proof  that  Jim's  work 
was  visionary  and  impractical.  Poor  Jennie 
was  not  aware  of  the  fact  that  new  truth  always 
comes  bringing,  not  peace  to  mankind,  but  a 
sword. 

"Father,"  said  she  that  night,  "let's  have  a 
little  Christmas  party." 

"All  right,"  said  the  colonel.  "Whom  shall 
we  invite?" 

"Don't  laugh,"  said  she.  "I  want  to  invite 
Jim  Irwin  and  his  mother,  and  nobody  else." 

"All  right,"  reiterated  the  colonel.  "But 
why?" 

"Oh,"  said  Jennie,  "I  want  to  see  whether  I 
can  talk  Jim  out  of  some  of  his  foolishness." 

"You  want  to  line  him  up,  do  you  ?"  said  the 
colonel.  "Well,  that's  good  politics,  and  inci 
dentally,  you  may  get  some  good  ideas  out  of 
Jim." 

"Rather  unlikely,"  said  Jennie. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  colonel/ 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  105 

smiling.  "I  begin  to  think  that  Jim's  a  Brown 
Mouse.  I've  told  you  about  the  Brown  Mouse, 
haven't  I?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jennie.  "You've  told  me.  But 
Professor  Darbishire's  brown  mice  were  simply 
wild  and  incorrigible  creatures.  Just  because 
it  happens  to  emerge  suddenly  from  the  forests 
of  heredity,  it  doesn't  prove  that  the  Brown 
Mouse  is  any  good." 

"Justin  Morgan  was  a  Brown  Mouse,"  said 
the  colonel.  "And  he  founded  the  greatest 
breed  of  horses  in  the  world." 

"You  say  that,"  said  Jennie,  "because  you're 
a  lover  of  the  Morgan  horse." 

"Napoleon  Bonaparte  was  a  Brown  Mouse," 
said  the  colonel.  "So  was  George  Washington, 
and  so  was  Peter  the  Great.  Whenever  a 
Brown  Mouse  appears  he  changes  things  in 
a  little  way  or  a  big  way." 

"For  the  better,  always?"  asked  Jennie. 

"No,"  said  the  colonel.  "The  Brown  Mouse 
may  throw  back  to  slant-headed  savagery.  But 
Jim  .  .  .  sometimes  I  think  Jim  is  the  kind  of 
Mendelian  segregation  out  of  which  we  get 
Franklins  and  Edisons  and  their  sort.  You 


106  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

may  get  some  good  ideas  out  of  Jim.  Let  us 
have  them  here  for  Christmas,  by  all  means." 
In  due  time  Jennie's  invitation  reached  Jim 
and  his  mother,  like  an  explosive  shell  fired 
from  a  distance  into  their  humble  dwelling — • 
quite  upsetting  things.  Twenty-five  years  con 
stitute  rather  a  long  wait  for  social  recogni 
tion,  and  Mrs.  Irwin  had  long  since  regarded 
herself  as  quite  outside  society.  To  be  sure, 
for  something  like  half  of  this  period,  she 
had  been  of  society  if  not  in  it.  She  had  done 
the  family  washings,  scrubbings  and  cleanings, 
had  made  the  family  clothes  and  been  a  woman 
of  all  work,  passing  from  household  to  house 
hold,  in  an  orbit  determined  by  the  exigencies 
of  threshing,  harvesting,  illness  and  child- 
bearing.  At  such  times  she  sat  at  the  family 
table  and  participated  in  the  neighborhood  gos 
sip,  in  quite  the  manner  of  a  visiting  aunt  or 
other  female  relative;  but  in  spite  of  the  de 
mocracy  of  rural  life,  there  is  and  always  has 
been  a  social  difference  between  a  hired  woman 
and  an  invited  guest.  And  when  Jim,  having 
absorbed  everything  which  the  Woodruff  school 
could  give  him  in  the  way  of  education,  found 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  107 

his  first  job  at  "making  a  hand,"  Mrs.  Irwin, 
at  her  son's  urgent  request,  ceased  going  out 
to  work  for  a  while,  until  she  could  get  back 
her  strength.  This  she  had  never  succeeded 
in  doing,  and  for  a  dozen  years  or  more  had 
never  entered  a  single  one  of  the  houses  in 
which  she  had  formerly  served. 

"I  can't  go,  James,"  said  she;  "I  can't  pos 
sibly  go." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can!  Why  not?"  said  Jim. 
"Why  not?" 

"You  know  I  don't  go  anywhere,"  urged  Mrs. 
Irwin. 

"That's  no  reason,"  said  her  son. 

"I  haven't  a  thing  to  wear,"  said  Mrs.  Irwin. 

"Nothing  to  wear!" 

I  wonder  if  any  ordinary  person  can  under 
stand  the  shock  with  which  Jim  Irwin  heard 
those  words  from  his  mother's  lips.  He  was 
approaching  thirty,  and  the  association  of  the 
ideas  of  Mother  and  Costume  was  foreign  to 
his  mind.  Other  women  had  surfaces  different 
from  hers,  to  be  sure — but  his  mother  was  not 
as  other  women.  She  was  just  Mother,  always 
at  work  in  the  house  or  in  the  garden,  always 


108  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

doing  for  him  those  inevitable  things  which 
made  up  her  part  in  life,  always  clothed  in  the 
browns,  grays,  gray-blues,  neutral  stripes  and 
checks  which  were  cheap  and  common  and 
easily  made.  Clothes!  They  were  in  the  Ir- 
win  family  no  more  than  things  by  which  the 
rules  of  decency  were  complied  with,  and  the 
cold  of  winter  turned  back — but  as  for  their 
appearance!  Jim  had  never  given  the  thing 
a  thought  further  than  to  wear  out  his  Sunday 
best  in  the  schoolroom,  to  wonder  where  the 
next  suit  of  Sunday  best  was  to  come  from, 
and  to  buy  for  his  mother  the  cheap  and  com 
mon  fabrics  which  she  fashioned  into  the  gar 
ments  in  which  alone,  it  seemed  to  him,  she 
would  seem  like  Mother.  A  boy  who  lives 
until  he  is  nearly  thirty  in  intimate  compan 
ionship  with  Carlyle,  Thoreau,  Wordsworth, 
Shakespeare,  Emerson,  Professor  Henry,  Lib 
erty  H.  Bailey,  Cyril  Hopkins,  Dean  Davenport 
and  the  great  obscurities  of  the  experiment  sta 
tions,  may  be  excused  if  his  views  regarding 
clothes  are  derived  in  a  transcendental  manner 
from  Sartor  Resartus  and  the  agricultural  col- 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  109 

!ege  tests  as  to  the  relation  between  Shelter 
and  Feeding. 

"Why,  mother,"  said  he,  "I  think  it  would 
be  pretty  hard  to  explain  to  the  Woodruffs  that 
you  stayed  away  because  of  clothes.  They  have 
seen  you  in  the  clothes  you  wear  pretty  often 
for  the  last  thirty  years !" 

Was  a  woman  ever  quite  without  a  costume? 

Mrs.  Irwin  gazed  at  vacancy  for  a  while, 
and  went  to  the  old  bureau.  From  the  bottom 
drawer  she  took  an  old,  old  black  alpaca  dress 
— a  dress  which  Jim  had  never  seen.  She 
spread  it  out  on  her  bed  in  the  alcove  off  the 
combined  kitchen,  parlor  and  dining-room  in 
which  they  lived,  and  smoothed  out  the  wrin 
kles.  It  was  almost  whole,  save  for  the  places 
where  her  body,  once  so  much  fuller  than  now, 
had  drawn  the  threads  apart — under  the  arms, 
and  at  some  of  the  seams — and  she  handled  it 
as  one  deals  with  something  very  precious. 

"I  never  thought  I'd  wear  it  again,"  said  she, 
"but  once.  I've  been  saving  it  for  my  last 
dress.  But  I  guess  it  won't  hurt  to  wear  it  once 
for  the  benefit  of  the  living." 


110  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Jim  kissed  his  mother — a  rare  thing,  save 
as  the  caress  was  called  for  by  the  established 
custom  between  them. 

"Don't  think  of  that,  mother,"  said  he,  "for 
years  and  years  yet  I" 


CHAPTER  X 

HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP, 

is  no  doubt  that  Jennie  Woodruff 
was  justified  in  thinking  that  they  were  a 
queer  couple.  They  weren't  like  the  Wood 
ruffs,  at  all.  They  were  of  a  different  pattern. 
To  be  sure,  Jim's  clothes  were  not  especially 
noteworthy,  being  just  shiny,  and  frayed  at 
cuff  and  instep,  and  short  of  sleeve  and  leg, 
and  ill-fitting  and  cheap.  They  betrayed  pov 
erty,  and  the  inability  of  a  New  York  sweat 
shop  to  anticipate  the  prodigality  of  Nature  in 
the  matter  of  length  of  leg  and  arm,  and 
wealth  of  bones  and  joints  which  she  had  lav 
ished  upon  Jim  Irwin.  But  the  Woodruff  table 
had  often  enjoyed  Jim's  presence,  and  the 
standards  prevailing  there  as  to  clothes  were 
only  those  of  plain  people  who  eat  with  their 
hired  men,  buy  their  clothes  at  a  county  seat 
town,  and  live  simply  and  sensibly  on  the  fat 
111 


112  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

of  the  land.    Jim's  queerness  lay  not  so  much 
in  his  clothes  as  in  his  personality. 

On  the  other  hand,  Jennie  could  not  help 
thinking  that  Mrs.  Irwin's  queerness  was  to  be 
found  almost  solely  in  her  clothes.  The  black 
alpaca  looked  undeniably  respectable,  espe 
cially  when  it  was  helped  out  by  a  curious  old 
brooch  of  goldstone,  bordered  with  flowers  in 
blue  and  white  and  red  and  green — tiny  blos 
soms  of  little  stones  which  looked  like  the 
flowers  which  grow  at  the  snow  line  on  Pike's 
Peak.  Jennie  felt  that  it  must  be  a  cheap  af 
fair,  but  it  was  decorative,  and  she  wondered 
where  Mrs.  Irwin  got  it.  She  guessed  it  must 
have  a  story — a  story  in  which  the  stooped, 
rusty,  somber  old  lady  looked  like  a  character 
drawn  to  harmonize  with  the  period  just  after 
the  war.  For  the  black  alpaca  dress  looked 
more  like  a  costume  for  a  masquerade  than  a 
present-day  garment,  and  Mrs.  Irwin  was  so 
oppressed  with  doubt  as  to  whether  she  was 
presentable,  with  knowledge  that  her  dress 
didn't  fit,  and  with  the  difficulty  of  behaving 
naturally — like  a  convict  just  discharged  from 
prison  after  a  ten  years'  term — that  she  took 


HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP         113 

on  a  stiffness  of  deportment  quite  in  keeping 
with  the  idea  that  she  was  a  female  Rip  Van 
Winkle  not  yet  quite  awake.  But  Jennie  had 
the  keenness  to  see  that  if  Mrs.  Irwin  could 
have  had  an  up-to-date  costume  she  would  have 
become  a  rather  ordinary  and  not  bad-looking 
old  lady.  What  Jennie  failed  to  divine  was 
that  if  Jim  could  have  invested  a  hundred  dol 
lars  in  the  services  of  tailors,  haberdashers, 
barbers  and  other  specialists  in  personal  ap 
pearance,  and  could  for  this  hour  or  so  have 
blotted  out  his  record  as  her  father's  field-hand, 
he  would  have  seemed  to  her  a  distinguished- 
looking  young  man.  Not  handsome,  of  course, 
but  the  sort  people  look  after — and  follow. 

"Come  to  dinner,"  said  Mrs.  Woodruff,  who 
at  this  juncture  had  a  hired  girl,  but  was  yoked 
to  the  oar  nevertheless  when  it  came  to  turkey 
and  the  other  fixings  of  a  Christmas  dinner. 
"It's  good  enough,  what  there  is  of  it,  and 
there's  enough  of  it  such  as  it  is — but  the  dress 
ing  in  the  turkey  would  be  better  for  a  little 
more  sage!" 

The  bountiful  meal  piled  mountain  high  for 
guest  and  hired  help  and  family  melted  away 


114  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

in  a  manner  to  delight  the  hearts  of  Mrs. 
Woodruff  and  Jennie.  The  colonel,  in  stiff 
starched  shirt,  black  tie  and  frock  coat,  carved 
with  much  empressement,  and  Jim  felt  almost 
for  the  first  time  a  sense  of  the  value  of  man 
ner. 

"I  had  bigger  turkeys,"  said  Mrs.  Woodruff 
to  Mrs.  Irwin,  "but  I  thought  it  would  be  bet 
ter  to  cook  two  turkey-hens  instead  of  one 
great  big  gobbler  with  meat  as  tough  as  tripe 
and  stuffed  full  of  fat." 

"One  of  the  hens  would  'a*  been  plenty,"  re 
plied  Mrs.  Irwin.  "How  much  did  they 
weigh?" 

"About  fifteen  pounds  apiece,"  was  the  an 
swer.  "The  gobbler  would  'a'  weighed  thirty, 
I  guess.  He's  pure  Mammoth  Bronze." 

"I  wish,"  said  Jim,  "that  we  could  get  a  few 
breeding  birds  of  the  wild  bronze  turkeys  from 
Mexico." 

"Why?"  asked  the  colonel. 

"They're  the  original  blood  of  the  domestic 
bronze  turkeys,"  said  Jim,  "and  they're  bigger 
and  handsomer  than  the  pure-bred  bronzes, 
even.  They're  a  better  stock  than  the  northern 


HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP         115 

wild  turkeys  from  which  our  common  birds 
originated." 

"Where  do  you  learn  all  these  things,  Jim?" 
asked  Mrs.  Woodruff.  "I  declare,  I  often  tell 
Woodruff  that  it's  as  good  as  a  lecture  to  have 
Jim  Irwin  at  table.  My  intelligence  has  fallen 
since  you  quit  working  here,  Jim." 

There  came  into  Jim's  eyes  the  gleam  of  the 
man  devoted  to  a  Cause — and  the  dinner  tended 
to  develop  into  a  lecture.  Jennie  saw  a  little 
more  plainly  wherein  his  queerness  lay. 

"There's  an  education  in  any  meal,  if  we 
would  just  use  the  things  on  the  table  as  ma 
terials  for  study,  and  follow  their  trails  back 
to  their  starting-points.  This  turkey  takes  us 
back  to  the  chaparral  of  Mexico " 

"What's  chaparral?"  asked  Jennie,  as  a  di 
version.  "It's  one  of  the  words  I  have  seen 
so  often  and  know  perfectly  to  speak  it  and 
read  it — but  after  all  it's  just  a  word,  and 
nothing  more." 

"Ain't  that  the  trouble  with  our  education, 
Jim?"  queried  the  colonel,  cleverly  steering 
Jim  back  into  the  track  of  his  discourse. 

"They  are  not  even  living  words,"  answered 


116  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Jim,  "unless  we  have  clothed  them  in  flesh  and 
blood  through  some  sort  of  concrete  notion. 
'Chaparral'  to  Jennie  is  just  the  ghost  of  a 
word.  Our  civilization  is  full  of  inefficiency  be 
cause  we  are  satisfied  to  give  our  children  these 
ghosts  and  shucks  and  husks  of  words,  instead 
of  the  things  themselves,  that  can  be  seen  and 
hefted  and  handled  and  tested  and  heard." 

Jennie  looked  Jim  over  carefully.  His  queer- 
ness  was  taking  on  a  new  phase — and  she  felt 
a  sense  of  surprise  such  as  one  experiences 
when  the  conjurer  causes  a  rose  to  grow  into 
a  tree  before  your  very  eyes.  Jim's  develop 
ment  was  not  so  rapid,  but  Jennie's  perception 
of  it  was.  She  began  to  feel  proud  of  the  fact 
that  a  man  who  could  make  his  impractical  no 
tions  seem  so  plausible — and  who  was  clearly 
fired  with  some  sort  of  evangelistic  fervor — 
had  kissed  her,  once  or  twice,  on  bringing  her 
home  from  the  spelling  school. 

"I  think  we  lose  so  much  time  in  school," 
Jim  went  on,  "while  the  children  are  eating 
their  dinners." 

"Well,  Jim,"  said  Mrs.  Woodruff,  "every  one 


HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP         117 

but  you  is  down  on  the  human  level.  The  poor 
kids  have  to  eat!" 

"But  think  how  much  good  education  there 
Is  wrapped  up  in  the  school  dinner — if  we 
could  only  get  it  out." 

Jennie  grew  grave.  Here  was  this  Brown 
Mouse  actually  introducing  the  subject  of  the 
school — and  he  ought  to  suspect  that  she  was 
planning  to  line  him  up  on  this  very  thing — if 
he  wasn't  a  perfect  donkey  as  well  as  a 
dreamer.  And  he  was  calmly  wading  into  the 
subject  as  if  she  were  the  ex-farm-hand  coun 
try  teacher,  and  he  was  the  county  superin 
tendent-elect  ! 

"Eating  a  dinner  like  this,  mother,"  said 
the  colonel  gallantly,  "is  an  education  in  itself 
— and  eating  some  others  requires  one;  but 
just  how  'larnin' '  is  wrapped  up  in  the  school 
lunch  is  a  new  one  on  me,  Jim." 

"Well,"  said  Jim,  "in  the  first  place  the  chil 
dren  ought  to  cook  their  meals  as  a  part  of 
the  school  work.  Prior  to  that  they  ought  to 
buy  the  materials.  And  prior  to  that  they 
ought  to  keep  the  accounts  of  the  school 


\ 


118  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

kitchen.  They'd  like  to  do  these  things,  and 
it  would  help  prepare  them  for  life  on  an  in 
telligent  plane,  while  they  prepared  the  meals." 

"Isn't  that  looking  rather  far  ahead?"  asked 
the  county  superintendent-elect. 

"It's  like  a  lot  of  other  things  we  think  far 
ahead,"  urged  Jim.  "The  only  reason  why 
they're  far  off  is  because  we  think  them  so. 
It's  a  thought — and  a  thought  is  as  near  the 
moment  we  think  it  as  it  will  ever  be." 

"I  guess  that's  so — to  a  wild-eyed  reformer," 
said  the  colonel.  "But  go  on.  Develop  your 
thought  a  little.  Have  some  more  dressing." 

"Thanks,  I  believe  I  will,"  said  Jim.  "And 
a  little  more  of  the  cranberry  sauce.  No  more 
turkey,  please." 

"I'd  like  to  see  the  school  class  that  could 
prepare  this  dinner,"  said  Mrs.  Woodruff. 

"Why,"  said  Jim,  "you'd  be  there  showing 
them  how!  They'd  get  credits  in  their  domes 
tic-economy  course  for  getting  the  school  din 
ner — and  they'd  bring  their  mothers  into  it  to 
help  them  stand  at  the  head  of  their  classes. 
And  one  detail  of  girls  would  cook  one  week, 
and  another  serve.  The  setting  of  the  table 


HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP         119 

would  come  in  as  a  study — flowers,  linen  and 
all  that.  And  when  we  get  a  civilized  teacher, 
table  manners!" 

"I'd  take  on  that  class,"  said  the  hired  man, 
winking  at  Selma  Carlson,  the  maid,  from 
somewhere  below  the  salt.  "The  way  I  make 
my  knife  feed  my  face  would  be  a  great  help 
to  the  children." 

"And  when  the  food  came  on  the  table,"  Jim 
went  on,  with  a  smile  at  his  former  fellow- 
laborer,  who  had  heard  most  of  this  before  as 
a  part  of  the  field  conversation,  "just  think  of 
the  things  we  could  study  while  eating  it.  The 
literary  term  for  eating  a  meal  is  discussing 
it — well,  the  discussion  of  a  meal  under  proper 
guidance  is  much  more  educative  than  a  lec 
ture.  This  breast-bone,  now,"  said  he,  refer 
ring  to  the  remains  on  his  plate.  "That's  physi 
ology.  The  cranberry-sauce — that's  botany, 
and  commerce,  and  soil  management — do  you 
know,  Colonel,  that  the  cranberry  must  have  an 
acid  soil — which  would  kill  alfalfa  or  clover?" 

"Read  something  of  it,"  said  the  colonel, 
"but  it  didn't  interest  me  much." 

"And  the  difference  between  the  types  of 


120  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

fowl  on  the  table — that's  breeding.  And  the 
nutmeg,  pepper  and  cocoanut — that's  geogra 
phy.  And  everything  on  the  table  runs  back 
to  geography,  and  comes  to  us  linked  to  our 
lives  by  dollars  and  cents — and  they're  mathe 
matics." 

"We  must  have  something  more  than  dollars 
and  cents  in  life,"  said  Jennie.  "We  must  have 
culture." 

"Culture,"  cried  Jim,  "is  the  ability  to  think 
in  terms  of  life — isn't  it?" 

"Like  Jesse  James,"  suggested  the  hired  man, 
who  was  a  careful  student  of  the  life  of  that 
eminent  bandit. 

There  was  a  storm  of  laughter  at  this  sally 
amidst  which  Jennie  wished  she  had  thought 
of  something  like  that.  Jim  joined  in  the 
laughter  at  his  own  expense,  but  was  clearly 
suffering  from  argumentative  shock. 

"That's  the  best  answer  I've  had  on  that 
point,  Pete,"  he  said,  after  the  disturbance  had 
subsided.  "But  if  the  James  boys  and  the 
Youngers  had  had  the  sort  of  culture  I'm  for, 
they  would  have  been  successful  stock  men  and 
farmers,  instead  of  train-robbers.  Take  Ray- 


HOW  JIM  WAS  LINED  UP         121 

mond  Simms,  for  instance.  He  had  all  the 
qualifications  of  a  member  of  the  James  gang 
when  he  came  here.  All  he  needed  was  a  few 
exasperated  associates  of  his  own  sort,  and  a 
convenient  railway  with  undefended  trains 
running  over  it.  But  after  a  few  weeks  of  real 
'culture'  under  a  mighty  poor  teacher,  he's  de 
veloping  into  the  most  enthusiastic  farmer  I 
know.  That's  real  culture." 

"It's  snowing  like  everything,"  said  Jennie, 
who  faced  the  window. 

"Don't  cut  your  dinner  short,"  said  the 
colonel  to  Pete,  "but  I  think  you'll  find  the 
cattle  ready  to  come  in  out  of  the  storm  when 
you  get  good  and  through." 

"I  think  I'll  let  'em  in  now,"  said  Pete,  by 
way  of  excusing  himself.  "I  expect  to  put  in 
most  of  the  day  from  now  on  getting  ready  to 
quit  eating.  Save  some  of  everything  for 
me,  Selma,— I'll  be  right  back !" 

"All  right,  Pete,"  said  Selma. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES 

JENNIE  played  the  piano  and  sang.  They 
all  joined  in  some  simple  Christmas  songs. 
Mrs.  Woodruff  and  Jim's  mother  went  into 
other  parts  of  the  house  on  research  work  con 
nected  with  their  converse  on  domestic  econ 
omy.  The  colonel  withdrew  for  an  inspection 
of  the  live  stock  on  the  eve  of  the  threatened 
blizzard.  And  Jim  was  left  alone  with  Jennie 
in  the  front  parlor.  After  the  buzz  of  conver 
sation,  they  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  say. 
Jennie  played  softly,  and  looked  at  nothing,  but 
scrutinized  Jim  by  means  of  the  eyes  which 
women  have  concealed  in  their  back  hair. 
There  was  something  new  in  the  man — she 
sensed  that.  He  was  more  confident,  more  per 
suasive,  more  dynamic.  She  was  used  to  him 
only  as  a  static  force. 

And  Jim  felt  something  new,  too.    He  had 
122 


THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES  123 

felt  it  growing  in  him  ever  since  he  began  his 
school  work,  and  knew  not  the  cause  of  it.  The 
cause,  however,  would  not  have  been  a  mys 
tery  to  a  wise  old  yogi  who  might  discover  the 
same  sort  of  change  in  one  of  his  young  novices. 
Jim  Irwin  had  been  a  sort  of  ascetic  since  his 
boyhood.  He  had  mortified  the  flesh  by  hard 
labor  in  the  fields,  and  by  flagellations  of  the 
brain  to  drive  off  sleep  while  he  pored  over  his 
books  in  the  attic — which  was  often  so  hot 
after  a  day  of  summer's  sun  on  its  low  thin 
roof,  that  he  was  forced  to  do  his  reading  in 
the  midmost  night.  He  had  looked  long  on 
such  women  as  Helen  of  Troy,  Cleopatra,  Isa 
bel,  Cressida,  Volumnia,  Virginia,  Evangeline, 
Agnes  Wickfield  and  Fair  Rosamond;  but  on 
women  in  the  flesh  he  had  gazed  as  upon  trees 
walking.  The  aforesaid  spiritual  director,  had 
this  young  ascetic  been  under  one,  would  have 
foreseen  the  effects  on  the  psychology  of  a  stout 
fellow  of  twenty-eight  of  freedom  from  the  toil 
of  the  fields,  and  association  with  a  group  of 
young  human  beings  of  both  sexes.  To  the 
novice  struggling  for  emancipation  from  earthly 
thoughts,  he  would  have  recommended  fasting 


124  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

and  prayer,  and  perhaps,  a  hair  shirt.  Just 
what  his  prescription  would  have  been  for  a 
man  in  Jim's  position  is,  of  course,  a  question. 
He  would,  no  doubt,  have  considered  care 
fully  his  patient's  symptoms.  These  were  very 
largely  the  mental  experiences  which  most  boys 
pass  through  in  their  early  twenties,  save,  per 
haps  that,  as  in  a  belated  season,  the  transition 
from  winter  to  spring  was  more  sudden,  and 
the  contrast  more  violent.  Jim  was  now  thrown 
every  day  into  contact  with  his  fellows.  He  was 
no  longer  a  lay  monk,  but  an  active  member  of 
a  very  human  group.  He  was  becoming  more 
of  a  boy,  with  the  boys,  and  still  more  was  he 
developing  into  a  man  with  the  women.  The 
budding  womanhood  of  Calista  Simms  and  the 
other  girls  of  his  school  thrilled  him  as  Helen 
of  Troy  or  Juliet  had  never  done.  This  will 
not  seem  very  strange  to  the  experienced 
reader,  but  it  astonished  the  unsophisticated 
young  schoolmaster.  The  floating  hair,  the 
heaving  bosom,  the  rosebud  mouth,  the  starry 
eye,  the  fragrant  breath,  the  magnetic  hand 
— all  these  disturbed  the  hitherto  sedate  mind, 
and  filled  the  brief  hours  he  was  accustomed 


THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES  125 

to  spend  in  sleep  with  strange  dreams.  And 
now,  as  he  gazed  at  Jennie,  he  was  suddenly 
aware  of  the  fact  that,  after  all,  whenever 
these  thoughts  and  dreams  took  on  individual 
ity,  they  were  only  persistent  and  intensified 
continuations  of  his  old  dreams  of  her.  They 
had  always  been  dormant  in  him,  since  the  days 
they  both  studied  from  the  same  book.  He  was 
quite  sure,  now,  that  he  had  never  forgotten 
for  a  moment,  that  Jennie  was  the  only  girl  in 
the  world  for  him.  And  possibly  he  was  right 
about  this.  It  is  perfectly  certain,  however, 
that  for  years  he  had  not  consciously  been  in 
love  with  her. 

Now,  however,  he  arose  as  from  some  inner 
compulsion,  and  went  to  her  side.  He  wished 
that  he  knew  enough  of  music  to  turn  her 
sheets  for  her,  but,  alas !  the  notes  were  mean 
ingless  to  him.  Still  scanning  him  by  means 
of  her  back  hair,  Jennie  knew  that  in  another 
moment  Jim  would  lay  his  hand  on  her  shoul* 
der,  or  otherwise  advance  to  personal  nearness, 
as  he  had  done  the  night  of  his  ill-starred 
speech  at  the  schoolhouse — and  she  rose  in  self- 
defense.  Self-defense,  however,  did  not  seem 


126  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

to  require  that  he  be  kept  at  too  great  a  dis 
tance  ;  so  she  maneuvered  him  to  the  sofa,  and 
seated  him  beside  her.  Now  was  the  time  to 
line  him  up. 

"It  seems  good  to  have  you  with  us  to-day," 
said  she.  "We're  such  old,  old  friends." 

"Yes,"  repeated  Jim,  "old  friends.  ...  We 
are,  aren't  we,  Jennie?" 

"And  I  feel  sure,"  Jennie  went  on,  "that  this 
marks  a  new  era  in  our  friendship." 

"Why?"  asked  Jim,  after  considering  the 
matter. 

"Oh!  everything  is  different,  now — and  get 
ting  more  different  all  the  time.  My  new  work, 
and  your  new  work,  you  know." 

"I  should  like  to  think,"  said  Jim,  "that  we 
are  beginning  over  again." 

"Oh,  we  are,  we  are,  indeed !  I  am  quite  sure 
of  it." 

"And  yet,"  said  Jim,  "there  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  new  beginning.  Everything  joins  itself, 
to  something  which  went  before.  There  isn't 
any  seam." 

"No?"  said  Jennie  interrogatively. 

"Our  regard  for  each  other,"  Jennie  noted 


THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES  127 

most  pointedly  his  word  "regard" — "must  be 
the  continuation  of  the  old  regard." 

"I  hardly  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Jennie. 

Jim  reached  over  and  possessed  himself  of 
her  hand.  She  pulled  it  from  him  gently,  but 
he  paid  no  attention  to  the  little  muscular  pro 
test,  and  examined  the  hand  critically.  On  the 
back  of  the  middle  finger  he  pointed  out  a  scar 
— a  very  tiny  scar. 

"Do  you  remember  how  you  got  that?"  he 
asked. 

Because  Jim  clung  to  the  hand,  their  heads 
were  very  close  together  as  she  joined  in  the 
examination. 

"Why,  I  don't  believe  I  do,"  said  she. 

"I  do,"  he  replied.  "We — you  and  I  and 
Mary  Forsythe  were  playing  mumble-peg,  and 
you  put  your  hand  on  the  grass  just  as  I  threw 
the  knife — it  cut  you,  and  left  that  scar." 

"I  remember,  now!"  said  she.  "How  such 
things  come  back  over  the  memory.  And  did 
it  leave  a  scar  when  I  pushed  you  toward  the 
red-hot  stove  in  the  schoolhouse  one  blizzardy 
day,  like  this,  and  you  peeled  the  skin  off  your 
wrist  where  it  struck  the  stove?" 


128  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Look  at  it,"  said  he,  baring  his  long  and 
bony  wrist.  "Right  there !" 

And  they  were  off  on  the  trail  that  leads 
back  to  childhood.  They  had  talked  long,  and 
intimately,  when  the  shadows  of  the  early  eve 
ning  crept  into  the  corners  of  the  room.  He 
had  carried  her  across  the  flooded  slew  again 
after  the  big  rain.  They  had  relived  a  dozen 
moving  incidents  by  flood  and  field.  Jennie 
recalled  the  time  when  the  tornado  narrowly 
missed  the  schoolhouse,  and  frightened  every 
body  in  school  nearly  to  death. 

"Everybody  but  you,  Jim,"  Jennie  remem 
bered.  "You  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
told  the  teacher  that  the  twister  was  going 
north  of  us,  and  would  kill  somebody  else." 

"Did  I?"  asked  Jim. 

"Yes,"  said  Jennie,  "and  when  the  teacher 
asked  us  to  kneel  and  thank  God,  you  said, 
'Why  should  we  thank  God  that  somebody  else 
is  blowed  away?'  She  was  greatly  shocked." 

"I  don't  see  to  this  day,"  Jim  asserted,  "what 
answer  there  was  to  my  question." 

In  the  gathering  darkness  Jim  again  took 


"Do  you  remember  how  you  get  that?' 


THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES  129 

Jennie's  hand,  but  this  time  she  deprived  him 
of  it. 

He  was  trembling  like  a  leaf.  Let  it  be  re 
membered  in  his  favor  that  this  was  the  only 
girl's  hand  he  had  ever  held. 

"You  can't  find  any  more  scars  on  it,"  she 
said  soberly. 

"Let  me  see  how  much  it  has  changed  since 
J  stuck  the  knife  in  it,"  begged  Jim. 

Jennie  held  it  up  for  inspection. 

"It's  longer,  and  slenderer,  and  whiter,  and 
even  more  beautiful,"  said  he,  "than  the  little 
hand  I  cut;  but  it  was  then  the  most  beautiful 
hand  in  the  world  to  me — and  still  is." 

"I  must  light  the  lamps,"  said  the  county 
superintendent-elect,  rather  flustered,  it  must 
be  confessed.  "Mama!  Where  are  all  the 
matches  ?" 

Mrs.  Woodruff  and  Mrs.  Irwin  came  in,  and 
the  lamplight  reminded  Jim's  mother  that  the 
cow  was  still  to  milk,  and  that  the  chickens 
might  need  attention.  The  Woodruff  sleigh 
came  to  the  door  to  carry  them  home ;  but  Jim 
desired  to  breast  the  storm.  He  felt  that  he 


130  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

needed  the  conflict.  Mrs.  Irwin  scolded  him 
for  his  foolishness,  but  he  strode  off  into  the 
whirling  drift,  throwing  back  a  good-by  for 
general  consumption,  and  a  pathetic  smile  to 
Jennie. 

"He's  as  odd  as  Dick's  hatband,"  said  Mrs. 
Woodruff,  "tramping  off  in  a  storm  like  this." 

"Did  you  line  him  up?"  asked  the  colonel 
of  Jennie. 

The  young  lady  started  and  blushed.  She 
had  forgotten  all  about  the  politics  of  the  sit 
uation. 

"I — Fm  afraid  I  didn't,  papa,"  she  confessed. 

"Those  brown  mice  of  Professor  Darbi- 
shire's,"  said  the  colonel,  "were  the  devil  and 
all  to  control." 

Jennie  was  thinking  of  this  as  she  dropped 
asleep. 

"Hard  to  control !"  she  thought.  "I  wonder. 
I  wonder,  after  all,  if  Jim  is  not  capable  of  be 
ing  easily  lined  up — when  he  sees  how  foolish 
I  think  he  is!" 

And  Jim?  He  found  himself  hard  to  con 
trol  that  night.  So  much  so  that  it  was  after 


THE  MOUSE  ESCAPES  131 

midnight  before  he  had  finished  work  on  a 
plan  for  a  cooperative  creamery. 

"The  boys  can  be  given  work  in  helping  to 
operate  it,"  he  wrote  on  a  tablet,  "which,  in 
connection  with  the  labor  performed  by  the 
teacher,  will  greatly  reduce  the  expense  of  op 
eration.  A  skilled  buttermaker,  with  slender 
white  hands" — but  he  erased  this  last  clause 
and  retired. 


CHAPTER  XII 
FACING  TRIAL 

A  DISTINCT    sensation    ran    through    the 

***  Woodruff  school,  but  the  schoolmaster  and 
a  group  of  five  big  boys  and  three  girls  en 
gaged  in  a  very  unclasslike  conference  in  the 
back  of  the  room  were  all  unconscious  of  it. 
The  geography  classes  had  recited,  and  the  lan 
guage  work  was  on.  Those  too  small  for  these 
studies  were  playing  a  game  under  the  leader 
ship  of  Jinnie  Simms,  who  had  been  promoted 
to  the  position  of  weed-seed  monitor. 

The  game  was  forfeits.  Each  child  had  been 
encouraged  to  bring  some  sort  of  weed  from 
the  winter  fields — preferably  one  the  seed  of 
which  still  clung  to  the  dried  receptacles — but 
anyhow,  a  weed.  Some  pupils  had  brought 
merely  empty  tassels,  some  bare  stalks,  and 
some  seeds  which  they  had  winnowed  froi* 
132 


FACING  TRIAL  133 

the  grain  in  their  father's  bins ;  and  with  them 
they  played  forfeits.  They  counted  out  by  the 
"arey,  Ira,  ickery  an' "  method,  and  somebody 
was  "It."  Then,  in  order,  they  presented  to 
him  a  seed,  stalk  or  head  of  a  weed,  and  if  the 
one  who  was  It  could  tell  the  name  of  the  weed, 
the  child  who  brought  the  specimen  became  It, 
and  the  name  was  written  on  slates  or  tablets, 
and  the  new  It  told  where  the  weed  or  seed  was 
collected.  If  any  pupil  brought  in  a  specimen 
the  name  of  which  he  himself  could  not  cor 
rectly  give,  he  paid  a  forfeit.  If  a  specimen 
was  brought  in  not  found  in  the  school  cabinet 
— which  was  coming  to  contain  a  considerable 
collection — it  was  placed  there,  and  the  task 
allotted  to  the  best  penman  in  the  school  to 
write  its  proper  label.  All  this  caused  excite 
ment,  and  not  a  little  buzz — but  it  ceased  when 
the  county  superintendent  entered  the  room. 

For  it  was  after  the  first  of  January,  and 
Jennie  was  visiting  the  Woodruff  school. 

The  group  in  the  back  of  the  room  went  on 
with  its  conference,  oblivious  of  the  entrance 
of  Superintendent  Jennie.  Their  work  was 
rather  absorbing,  being  no  more  nor  less  than 


134  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  compilation  of  the  figures  of  a  cow  census 
of  the  district. 

"Altogether,"  said  Mary  Talcott,  "we  have 
in  the  district  one  hundred  and  fifty-three 
cows." 

"I  don't  make  it  that/'  said  Raymond  Simms. 
"I  don't  get  but  a  hundred  and  thirty-eight." 

"The  trouble  is,"  said  Newton  Bronson,  "that 
Mary's  counting  in  the  Bailey  herd  of  Short 
horns." 

"Well,  they're  cows,  ain't  they?"  interro 
gated  Mary. 

"Not  for  this  census,"  said  Raymond. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mary.  "They're  the  pret 
tiest  cows  in  the  neighborhood." 

"Scotch  Shorthorns,"  said  Newton,  "and  run 
with  their  calves." 

"Leave  them  out,"  said  Jim,  "and  to-mor- 
:vow,  I  want  each  one  to  tell  in  the  language 
class,  in  three  hundred  words  or  less,  whether 
there  are  enough  cows  in  the  district  to  justify 
a  cooperative  creamery,  and  give  the  reasonc 
You'll  find  articles  in  the  farm  papers  if  you 
look  through  the  card  index.  Now,  how  about 
the  census  in  the  adjoining  districts?" 


FACING  TRIAL  135 

"There  are  more  than  two  hundred  within 
four  miles  on  the  roads  leading  west,"  said  a 
boy. 

"My  father  and  I  counted  up  about  a  hun 
dred  beyond  us,"  said  Mary.  "But  I  couldn't 
get  the  exact  number." 

"Why,"  said  Raymond,  "we  could  find  six 
hundred  dairy  cows  in  this  neighborhood, 
within  an  hour's  drive." 

"Six  hundred!"  scoffed  Newton.  "You're 
crazy!  In  an  hour's  drive?" 

"I  mean  an  hour's  drive  each  way,"  said 
Raymond. 

"I  believe  we  could,"  said  Jim.  "And  after 
we  find  how  far  we  will  have  to  go  to  get 
enough  cows,  if  half  of  them  patronized  the 
creamery,  we'll  work  over  the  savings  the  busi 
ness  would  make,  if  we  could  get  the  prices 
for  butter  paid  the  Wisconsin  cooperative 
creameries,  as  compared  with  what  the  central- 
izers  pay  us,  on  a  basis  of  the  last  six  months. 
Who's  in  possession  of  that  correspondence 
with  the  Wisconsin  creameries?" 

"I  have  it,"  said  Raymond.  "I'm  hecto- 
graphing  a  lot  of  arithmetic  problems  from  it." 


136  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Irwin  I"  It  was  the  su 
perintendent  who  spoke. 

Jim's  brain  whirled  little  prismatic  clouds 
before  his  vision,  as  he  rose  and  shook  Jennie's 
extended  hand. 

"Let  me  give  you  a  chair,"  said  he. 

"Oh,  no,  thank  you  I"  she  returned.  "I'll  just 
make  myself  at  home.  I  know  my  way  about 
in  this  schoolhouse,  you  know!" 

She  smiled  at  the  children,  and  went  about 
looking  at  their  work — which  was  not  notice 
ably  disturbed,  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  visit 
ors  were  much  more  frequent  now  than  ever 
before,  and  were  no  rarity.  Certainly,  Jennie 
Woodruff  was  no  novelty,  since  they  had  known 
her  all  their  lives.  Most  of  the  embarrassment 
was  Jim's.  He  rose  to  the  occasion,  however, 
went  through  the  routine  of  the  closing  day, 
and  dismissed  the  flock,  not  omitting  making 
an  engagement  with  a  group  of  boys  for  that 
evening  to  come  back  and  work  on  the  formalin 
treatment  for  smut  in  seed  grains,  and  the 
blue-vitriol  treatment  for  seed  potatoes, 

"We  hadn't  time  for  these  things,"  said  he 


FACING  TRIAL  137 

to  the  county  superintendent,  "in  the  regular 
class  work — and  it's  getting  time  to  take  them 
up  if  we  are  to  clean  out  the  smut  in  next  year's 
crop." 

They  repeated  Whittier's  Corn  Song  in 
concert,  and  school  was  out. 

Alone  with  her  in  the  old  schoolhouse,  Jim 
confronted  Jennie  in  the  flesh.  She  felt  a  sense 
of  his  agitation,  but  if  she  had  known  the 
power  of  it,  she  would  have  been  astonished. 
Since  that  Christmas  afternoon  when  she  had 
undertaken  to  follow  Mr.  Peterson's  advice  and 
line  Yim  Irwin  up,  Jim  had  gone  through  an 
inward  transformation.  He  had  passed  from 
a  late,  cold,  backward  sexual  spring,  into  a 
warm  June  of  the  spirit,  in  which  he  had 
walked  amid  roses  and  lilies  with  Jennie.  He 
was  in  love  with  her.  He  knew  how  insane  it 
was,  how  much  less  than  nothing  had  taken 
place  in  his  circumstances  to  justify  the  hope 
that  he  could  ever  emerge  from  the  state  in 
which  she  would  not  say  "Humph!"  at  the 
thought  that  he  could  marry  her  or  any  one 
else.  Yet,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he 


138  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

would  marry  Jennie  Woodruff.  .  .  .  She  ought 
never  have  tried  to  line  him  up.  She  knew  not 
what  she  did. 

He  saw  her  through  clouds  of  rose  and  pink ; 
but  she  looked  at  him  as  at  a  foolish  man  who 
was  making  trouble  for  her,  chasing  rainbows 
at  her  expense,  and  deeply  vexing  her.  She 
was  in  a  cold  official  frame  of  mind. 

"Jim,"  said  she,  "do  you  know  that  you  are 
facing  trouble?" 

"Trouble,"  said  Jim,  "is  the  natural  condi 
tion  of  a  man  in  my  state  of  mind.  But  it  is 
going  to  be  a  delicious  sort  of  tribulation." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  replied 
in  perfect  honesty. 

"Then  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  replied 
Jim. 

"Jim,"  she  said  pleadingly,  "I  want  you  to 
give  up  this  sort  of  teaching.  Can't  you  see 
it's  all  wrong?" 

"No,"  answered  Jim,  in  much  the  manner 
of  a  man  who  has  been  stabbed  by  his  sweet 
heart.  '"I  can't  see  that  it's  wrong.  It's  the 
only  sort  I  can  do.  What  do  you  see  wrong 
in  it?" 


FACING  TRIAL  139 

"Oh,  I  can  see  some  very  wonderful  things 
in  it,"  said  Jennie,  "but  it  can't  be  done  in  the 
Woodruff  District.  It  may  be  correct  in  theory, 
but  it  won't  work  in  practise." 

"Jennie,"  said  he,  "when  a  thing  won't  work, 
it  isn't  correct  in  theory." 

"Well,  then,  Jim,"  said  she,  "why  do  you 
keep  on  with  it?" 

"It  works,"  said  Jim.  "Anything  that's  cor 
rect  in  theory  will  work.  If  the  theory  seems 
correct,  and  yet  won't  work,  it's  because  some 
thing  is  wrong  in  an  unsuspected  way  with  the 
theory.  But  my  theory  is  correct,  and  it 
works." 

"But  the  district  is  against  it." 

"Who  are  the  district?" 

"The  school  board  are  against  it." 

"The  school  board  elected  me  after  listening 
to  an  explanation  of  my  theories  as  to  the  new 
sort  of  rural  school  in  which  I  believe.  I  as 
sume  that  they  commissioned  me  to  carry  out 
my  ideas." 

"Oh,  Jim!"  cried  Jennie.  "That's  sophistry! 
They  all  voted  for  you  so  you  wouldn't  be  with 
out  support.  Each  wanted  you  to  have  just  one 


140  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

vote.  Nobody  wanted  you  elected.  They  were 
all  surprised.  You  know  that!" 

"They  stood  by  and  saw  the  contract  signed," 
said  Jim,  "and — yes,  Jennie,  I  am  dealing  in 
sophistry!  I  got  the  school  by  a  sort  of  shell- 
game,  which  the  board  worked  on  themselves. 
But  that  doesn't  prove  that  the  district  is 
against  me.  I  believe  the  people  are  for  me, 
now,  Jennie,  I  really  do!" 

Jennie  rose  and  walked  to  the  rear  of  the 
room  and  back,  twice.  When  she  spoke,  there 
was  decision  in  her  tone — and  Jim  felt  that  it 
was  hostile  decision. 

"As  an  officer,"  she  said  rather  grandly,  "my 
relations  with  the  district  are  with  the  school 
board  on  the  one  hand,  and  with  your  compe 
tency  as  a  teacher  on  the  other." 

"Has  it  come  to  that?"  asked  Jim.  "Well,  I 
have  rather  expected  it." 

His  tone  was  weary.  The  Lincolnian  droop 
in  his  great,  sad,  mournful  mouth  accentuated 
the  resemblance  to  the  martyr  president.  Pos 
sibly  his  feelings  were  not  entirely  different 
from  those  experienced  by  Lincoln  at  some 


FACING  TRIAL  141 

crises  of  doubt,  misunderstanding  and  depres 
sion. 

"If  you  can't  change  your  methods,"  said 
Jennie,  "I  suggest  that  you  resign." 

"Do  you  think,"  said  Jim,  "that  changing 
my  methods  would  appease  the  men  who  feel 
that  they  are  made  laughing-stocks  by  having 
elected  me?" 

Jennie  was  silent;  for  she  knew  that  the 
school  board  meant  to  pursue  their  policy  of 
getting  rid  of  the  accidental  incumbent  regard 
less  of  his  methods. 

"They  would  never  call  off  their  dogs,"  said 
Jim. 

"But  your  methods  would  make  a  great  dif 
ference  with  my  decision,"  said  Jennie. 

"Are  you  to  be  called  upon  to  decide?"  asked 
Jim. 

"A  formal  complaint  against  you  for  incom- 
petency,"  she  replied,  "has  been  lodged  in  my 
office,  signed  by  the  three  directors.  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  take  notice  of  it." 

"And  do  you  think,"  queried  Jim,  "that  my 
abandonment  of  the  things  in  which  I  believe 
in  the  face  of  this  attack  would  prove  to  your 


142  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

mind  that  I  am  competent?  Or  would  it  show 
me  incompetent?" 

Again  Jennie  was  silent. 

"I  guess,"  said  Jim,  "that  we'll  have  to  stand 
or  fall  on  things  as  they  are." 

"Do  you  refuse  to  resign?"  asked  Jennie. 

"Sometimes  I  think  it's  not  worth  while  to 
try  any  longer,"  said  Jim.  "And  yet,  I  believe 
that  in  my  way  I'm  working  on  the  question 
which  must  be  solved  if  this  nation  is  to  stand — • 
the  question  of  making  the  farm  and  farm  life 
what  they  should  be  and  may  well  be.  At  this 
moment,  I  feel  like  surrendering — for  your 
sake  more  than  mine;  but  I'll  have  to  think 
about  it.  Suppose  I  refuse  to  resign?" 

Jennie  had  drawn  on  her  gloves,  and  stood 
ready  for  departure. 

"Unless  you  resign  before  the  twenty-fifth," 
said  she,  "I  shall  hear  the  petition  for  your  re 
moval  on  that  date.  You  will  be  allowed  to 
be  present  and  answer  the  charges  against 
you.  The  charges  are  incompetency.  I  bid  you 
good  evening!" 

"Incompetency !"  The  disgraceful  word, 
representing  everything  he  had  always  de- 


FACING  TRIAL  143 

spised,  rang  through  Jim's  mind  as  he  walked 
home.  He  could  think  of  nothing  else  as  he  sat 
at  the  simple  supper  which  he  could  scarcely 
taste.  Incompetent!  Well,  had  he  not  always 
been  incompetent,  except  in  the  use  of  his 
muscles?  Had  he  not  always  been  a  dreamer? 
Were  not  all  his  dreams  as  foreign  to  life 
and  common  sense  as  the  Milky  Way 
from  the  earth?  What  reason  was  there  for 
thinking  that  this  crusade  of  his  for  better 
schools  had  any  sounder  foundation  than  his 
dream  of  being  president,  or  a  great  painter, 
or  a  poet  or  novelist  or  philosopher?  He  was 
just  a  hayseed,  a  rube,  a  misfit,  as  odd  as  Dick's 
hatband,  an  off  ox.  He  was  incompetent.  He 
picked  up  a  pen,  and  began  writing.  He  wrote, 
"To  the  Honorable  the  Board  of  Education  of 

the  Independent  District  of "  And  he 

heard  a  tap  at  the  door.  His  mother  admitted 
Colonel  Woodruff. 

"Hello,  Jim,"  said  he. 

"Good  evening,  Colonel,"  said  Jim.  "Take 
a  chair,  won't  you?" 

"No,"  replied  the  colonel.  "I  thought  I'd 
see  if  you  and  the  boys  at  the  schoolhouse 


144  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

can't  tell  me  something  about  the  smut  in  my 
wheat.  I  heard  you  were  going  to  work  on  that 
to-night." 

"I  had  forgotten !"  said  Jim. 

"I  wondered  if  you  hadn't,"  said  the  colonel, 
"and  so  I  came  by  for  you.  I  was  waiting  up 
the  road.  Come  on,  and  ride  up  with  me." 

The  colonel  had  always  been  friendly,  but 
there  was  a  new  note  in  his  manner  to-night. 
He  was  almost  deferential.  If  he  had  been 
talking  to  Senator  Cummins  or  the  president 
of  the  state  university,  his  tone  could  not  have 
been  more  courteous,  more  careful  to  preserve 
the  amenities  due  from  man  to  man.  He 
worked  with  the  class  on  the  problem  of  smut. 
He  offered  to  aid  the  boys  in  every  possible 
way  in  their  campaign  against  scab  in  potatoes. 
He  suggested  some  tests  which  would  show  the 
real  value  of  the  treatment.  The  boys  were  in 
a  glow  of  pride  at  this  cooperation  with  Colonel 
Woodruff.  This  was  real  Work!  Jim  and  the 
colonel  went  away  together.  It  had  been  a 
great  evening. 

"Jim,"  said  the  colonel,  "can  these  kids 
epell?" 


FACING  TRIAL  145 

"You  mean  these  boys?" 

"I  mean  the  school." 

"I  think,"  said  Jim,  "that  they  can  outspell 
any  school  about  here." 

"Good,"  said  the  colonel.  "How  are  they 
about  reading  aloud?" 

"Better  than  they  were  when  I  took  hold." 

"How  about  arithmetic  and  the  other 
branches?  Have  you  sort  of  kept  them  up  to 
the  course  of  study?" 

"I  have  carried  them  in  a  course  parallel  to 
the  text-books,"  said  Jim,  "and  covering  the 
same  ground.  But  it  has  been  vocational  work, 
you  know — related  to  life." 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "if  I  were  you,  I'd 
put  them  over  a  rapid  review  of  the  text-books 
for  a  few  days — say  between  now  and  the 
twenty-fifth." 

"What  for?" 

"Oh,  nothing — just  to  please  me.  .  .  .  And 
say,  Jim,  I  glanced  over  a  communication 
you  have  started  to  the  more  or  less  Honorable 
Board  of  Education." 

"Yes?" 

"Well,   don't  finish  it.  ...  And  say,   Jim, 


146  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

I  think  I'll  give  myself  the  luxury  of  being  a 
wild-eyed  reformer  for  once." 

"Yes,"  said  Jim,  dazed. 

"And  if  you  think,  Jim,  that  you've  got  no 
friends,  just  remember  that  I'm  for  you." 

"Thank  you,  Colonel." 

"And  we'll  show  them  they're  in  a  horse 
race." 

"I  don't  see  .  .  ."  said  Jim. 

"You're  not  supposed  to  see,"  said  the 
colonel,  "but  you  can  bet  that  we'll  be  with 
them  at  the  finish;  and,  by  thunder!  while 
they're  getting  a  full  meal,  we'll  get  at  least 
a  lunch.  See?" 

"But  Jennie  says,"  began  Jim. 

"Don't  tell  me  what  she  says,"  said  the 
colonel.  "She's  acting  according  to  her  judg 
ment,  and  her  lights  and  other  organs  of  per 
ception,  and  I  don't  think  it  fittin'  that  her 
father  should  try  to  influence  her  official  con 
duct.  But  you  go  on  and  review  them  common 
branches,  and  keep  your  nerve.  I  haven't  felt 
so  much  like  a  scrap  since  the  day  we  stormed 
Lookout  Mountain.  I  kinder  like  being  a  wild- 
eyed  reformer,  Jim." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
FAME  OR  NOTORIETY 

office  of  county  superintendent  was,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  the  least  desirable  room 
of  the  court-house.  I  say  "room"  advisedly, 
because  it  consisted  of  a  single  chamber  of 
moderate  size,  provided  with  office  furniture  of 
the  minimum  quantity  and  maximum  age.  It 
opened  off  the  central  hall  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  stairway  which  led  to  the  court  room,  and 
when  court  was  in  session,  served  the  extraor 
dinary  needs  of  justice  as  a  jury  room.  At 
such  times  the  county  superintendent's  desk 
was  removed  to  the  hall,  where  it  stood  in  a 
noisy  and  confusing  but  very  democratic  pub 
licity.  Superintendent  Jennie  might  have 
anticipated  the  time  when,  during  the  March 
term,  offenders  passing  from  the  county  jail 
in  the  basement  to  arraignment  at  the  bar  of 
justice  might  be  able  to  peek  over  her  shoul- 
147 


148  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ders  and  criticize  her  method  of  treating 
examination  papers.  On  the  twenty-fifth  of 
February,  however,  this  experience  lurked 
unsuspected  in  her  official  future. 

Poor  Jennie !  She  anticipated  nothing  more 
than  the  appearance  of  Messrs.  Bronson, 
Peterson  and  Bonner  in  her  office  to  confront 
Jim  Irwin  on  certain  questions  of  fact  re 
lating  to  Jim's  competency  to  hold  a  teacher's 
certificate.  The  time  appointed  was  ten 
o'clock.  At  nine  forty-five  Cornelius  Bonner 
and  his  wife  entered  the  office,  and  took  twenty- 
five  per  cent,  of  the  chairs  therein.  At  nine 
fifty  Jim  Irwin  came  in,  haggard,  weather- 
beaten  and  seedy  as  ever,  and  looked  as  if  he 
had  neither  eaten  nor  slept  since  his  sweetheart 
stabbed  him.  At  nine  fifty-five  Haakon  Peter 
son  and  Ezra  Bronson  came  in,  accompanied  by 
Wilbur  Smythe,  attorney-at-law,  who  carried 
under  his  arm  a  code  of  Iowa,  a  compilation 
of  the  school  laws  of  the  state,  and  Tkroop  on 
Public  Officers.  At  nine  fifty-six,  therefore,  the 
crowd  in  Jennie's  office  exceeded  its  seating 
capacity,  and  Jennie  was  in  a  flutter  as  the 
realization  dawned  upon  her  that  this  promised 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  149 

to  be  a  bigger  and  more  public  affair  than  she 
had  anticipated.  At  nine  fifty-nine  Raymond 
Simms  opened  the  office  door  and  there  filed 
in  enough  children,  large  and  small,  some  of 
them  accompanied  by  their  parents,  and  all 
belonging  to  the  Woodruff  school,  to  fill  com 
pletely  the  interstices  of  the  corners  and  angles 
of  the  room  and  between  the  legs  of  the  grown 
ups.  In  addition  there  remained  an  overflow 
meeting  in  the  hall,  under  the  command  of  that 
distinguished  military  gentleman,  Colonel  Al 
bert  Woodruff. 

"Say,  Bill,  come  here!"  said  the  colonel, 
crooking  his  finger  at  the  deputy  sheriff. 

"What  you  got  here,  Al!"  said  Bill,  coming 
up  the  stairs,  puffing.  "Ain't  it  a  little  early 
for  Sunday-school  picnics?" 

"This  is  a  school  fight  in  our  district,"  said 
the  colonel.  "It's  Jennie's  baptism  of  fire,  I 
reckon  .  .  .  and  say,  you're  not  using  the 
court  room,  are  you  ?" 

"Nope,"  said  Bill. 

"Well,  why  not  just  slip  around,  then,"  said 
the  colonel,  "and  tell  Jennie  she'd  better  ad 
journ  to  the  big  room." 


150  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

Which  suggestion  was  acted  upon  instanter 
by  Deputy  Bill. 

"But  I  can't,  I  can't,"  said  Jennie  to  the 
courteous  deputy  sheriff.  "I  don't  want  all  this 
publicity,  and  I  don't  want  to  go  into  the  court 


room." 


"I  hardly  see,"  said  Deputy  Bill,  "how  you 
can  avoid  it.  These  people  seem  to  have  busi 
ness  with  you,  and  they  can't  get  into  your 
office." 

"But  they  have  no  business  with  me,"  said 
Jennie.  "It's  mere  curiosity." 

Whereupon  Wilbur  Smythe,  who  could  see  no 
particular  point  in  restricted  publicity,  said, 
"Madame  County  Superintendent,  this  hearing 
certainly  is  public  or  quasi-public.  Your  office 
is  a  public  one,  and  while  the  right  to  attend 
this  hearing  may  not  possibly  be  a  universal 
one,  it  surely  is  one  belonging  to  every  citizen 
and  taxpayer  of  the  county,  and  if  the  taxpayer, 
qua  taxpayer,  then  certainly  a  fortiori  to  the 
members  of  the  Woodruff  school  and  residents 
of  that  district." 

Jennie  quailed.  "All  right,  all  right!"  said 
she.  "But,  shall  I  have  to  sit  on  the  bench !" 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  151 

"You  will  find  it  by  far  the  most  convenient 
place,"  said  Deputy  Bill. 

Was  this  the  life  to  which  public  office  had 
brought  her?  Was  it  for  this  that  she  had 
bartered  her  independence — for  this  and  the 
musty  office,  the  stupid  examination  papers, 
and  the  interminable  visiting  of  schools,  know 
ing  that  such  supervision  as  she  could  give 
was  practically  worthless  ?  Jim  had  said  to  her 
that  he  had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  a 
good  county  superintendent  of  schools,  and  she 
had  thought  him  queer.  And  now,  here  was  she, 
called  upon  to  pass  on  the  competency  of  the 
man  who  had  always  been  her  superior  in 
everything  that  constitutes  mental  ability ;  and 
to  make  the  thing  more  a  matter  for  the  laugh 
ter  of  the  gods,  she  was  perched  on  the  judicial 
bench,  which  Deputy  Bill  had  dusted  off  for 
her,  tipping  a  wink  to  the  assemblage  while 
doing  it.  He  expected  to  be  a  candidate  for 
sheriff,  one  of  these  days,  and  was  pleasing 
the  crowd.  And  that  crowd!  To  Jennie  it 
was  appalling.  The  school  board  under  the 
lead  of  Wilbur  Smythe  took  seats  inside  the 
railing  which  on  court  days  divided  the  audi- 


152  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ence  from  the  lawyers  and  litigants.  Jim 
Irwin,  who  had  never  been  in  a  court  room  be 
fore,  herded  with  the  crowd,  obeying  the  at 
traction  of  sympathy,  but  to  Jennie,  seated  on 
the  bench,  he,  like  other  persons  in  the  audi 
torium,  was  a  mere  blurry  outline  with  a  knob 
of  a  head  on  its  top. 

She  couldn't  call  the  gathering  to  order.  She 
had  no  idea  as  to  the  proper  procedure.  She 
sat  there  while  the  people  gathered,  stood  about 
whispering  and  talking  under  their  breaths, 
and  finally  became  silent,  all  their  eyes  fixed 
on  her,  as  she  wished  that  the  office  of  county 
superintendent  had  been  abolished  in  the  days 
of  her  parents'  infancy. 

"May  it  please  the  court,"  said  Wilbur 
Smythe,  standing  before  the  bar.  "Or,  Madame 
County  Superintendent,  I  should  say  .  .  ." 

A  titter  ran  through  the  room,  and  a  flush 
of  temper  tinted  Jennie's  face.  They  were 
laughing  at  her!  She  wouldn't  be  a  spectacle 
any  longer!  So  she  rose,  and  handed  down 
her  first  and  last  decision  from  the  bench — a 
rather  good  one,  I  think. 

"Mr.  Smythe,"  said  she,  "I  feel  very  ill  at 


\ 


"May  it  please  the  court" 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  153 

ease  up  here,  and  I'm  going  to  get  down  among 
the  people.  It's  the  only  way  I  have  of  getting 
the  truth." 

She  descended  from  the  bench,  shook  hands 
with  everybody  near  her,  and  sat  down  by  the 
attorney's  table. 

"Now,"  said  she,  "this  is  no  formal  proceed 
ing  and  we  will  dispense  with  red  tape.  If 
we  don't,  I  shall  get  all  tangled  up  in  it. 
Where's  Mr.  Irwin?  Please  come  in  here, 
Jim.  Now,  I  know  there's  some  feeling  in  these 
things — there  always  seems  to  be;  but  I  have 
none.  So  I'll  just  hear  why  Mr.  Bronson,  Mr. 
Peterson  and  Mr.  Bonner  think  that  Mr.  James 
E.  Irwin  isn't  competent  to  hold  a  certifi 
cate." 

Jennie  was  able  to  smile  at  them  now,  and 
everybody  felt  more  at  ease,  save  Jim  Irwin, 
the  members  of  the  board  and  Wilbur  Smythe. 
That  individual  arose,  and  talked  down  at  Jen 
nie. 

"I  appear  for  the  proponents  here,"  said  he, 
"and  I  desire  to  suggest  certain  principles  of 
procedure  which  I  take  it  belong  indisputably 
to  the  conduct  of  this  hearing." 


154  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Have  you  a  lawyer?"  asked  the  county 
superintendent  of  the  respondent. 

"A  what?"  exclaimed  Jim.  "Nobody  here 
has  a  lawyer!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  call  Wilbur  Smythe?" 
queried  Newton  Bronson  from  the  midst  of  the 
crowd. 

"He  ain't  lawyer  enough  to  hurt!"  said  the 
thing  which  the  dramatists  call  A  Voice. 

There  was  a  little  tempest  of  laughter  at 
Wilbur  Smythe's  expense,  which  was  quelled 
by  Jennie's  rapping  on  the  table.  She  was  be 
ginning  to  feel  the  mouth  of  the  situation. 

"I  have  no  way  of  retaining  a  lawyer,"  said 
Jim,  on  whom  the  truth  had  gradually  dawned. 
"If  a  lawyer  is  necessary,  I  am  without  pro 
tection — but  it  never  occurred  to  me  .  .  ." 

"There  is  nothing  in  the  school  laws,  as  I 
remember  them,"  said  Jennie,  "giving  the  par 
ties  any  right  to  be  represented  by  counsel.  If 
there  is,  Mr.  Smythe  will  please  set  me  right." 

She  paused  for  Mr.  Smythe's  reply. 

"There  is  nothing  which  expressly  gives  that 
privilege,"  said  Mr.  Smythe,  "but  the  right  to 
the  benefit  of  skilled  advisers  is  a  universal 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  155 

one.  It  can  not  be  questioned.  And  in  opening 
this  case  for  my  clients,  I  desire  to  call  your 
honor's  attention — " 

"You  may  advise  your  clients  all  you  please," 
said  Jennie,  "but  I'm  not  going  to  waste  time 
in  listening  to  speeches,  or  having  a  lot  of  law 
yers  examine  witnesses." 

"I  protest,"  said  Mr.  Smythe. 

"Well,  you  may  file  your  protest  in  writing," 
said  Jennie.  "I'm  going  to  talk  this  matter 
over  with  these  old  friends  and  neighbors  of 
mine.  I  don't  want  you  dipping  into  it,  I  say !" 

Jennie's  voice  was  rising  toward  the  scream- 
line,  and  Mr.  Smythe  recognized  the  hand  of 
fate.  One  may  argue  with  a  cantankerous  judge, 
but  the  woman,  who  like  necessity,  knows  no 
law,  and  who  is  smothering  in  a  flood  of  per 
plexities,  is  beyond  reason.  Moreover,  Jennie 
dimly  saw  that  what  she  was  doing  had  the 
approval  of  the  crowd,  and  it  solved  the  prob 
lem  of  procedure. 

There  was  a  little  wrangling,  and  a  little 
protest  from  Con  Bonner,  but  Jennie  ruled  with 
a  rod  of  iron,  arid  adhered  to  her  ruling.  When 
the  hearing  was  resumed  after  the  noon  recess, 


156  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  crowd  was  larger  than  ever,  but  the  pro 
ceedings  consisted  mainly  in  a  conference  of 
the  principals  grouped  about  Jennie  at  the  big 
lawyers'  table.  They  were  talking  about  the 
methods  adopted  by  Jim  in  his  conduct  of  the 
Woodruff  school — just  talking.  The  only  new 
thing  was  the  presence  of  a  couple  of  news 
paper  men,  who  had  queried  Chicago  papers 
on  the  story,  and  been  given  orders  for  a  certain 
number  of  words  on  the  case  of  the  farm-hand 
schoolmaster  on  trial  before  his  old  sweetheart 
for  certain  weird  things  he  had  done  in  the 
home  school  in  which  they  had  once  been  class 
mates.  The  fact  that  the  old  school-sweetheart 
had  kicked  a  lawyer  out  of  the  case  was  not 
overlooked  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  fourth 
estate.  It  helped  to  make  it  a  "good  story." 

By  the  time  at  which  gathering  darkness 
made  it  necessary  for  the  bailiff  to  light  the 
lamps,  the  parties  had  agreed  on  the  facts. 
Jim  admitted  most  of  the  allegations.  He  had 
practically  ignored  the  text-books.  He  had 
burned  the  district  fuel  and  worn  out  the  dis 
trict  furniture  early  and  late,  and  on  Satur 
days.  He  had  introduced  domestic  economy 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  157 

and  manual  training,  to  some  extent,  by  send 
ing  the  boys  to  the  workshops  and  the  girls  to 
the  kitchens  and  sewing-rooms  of  the  farmers 
who  allowed  those  privileges.  He  had  used 
up  a  great  deal  of  time  in  studying  farm  con 
ditions.  He  had  induced  the  boys  to  test  the 
cows  of  the  district  for  butter-fat  yield.  He 
was  studying  the  matter  of  a  cooperative 
creamery.  He  hoped  to  have  a  blacksmith 
shop  on  the  schoolhouse  grounds  sometime, 
where  the  boys  could  learn  metal  working  by 
repairing  the  farm  machinery,  and  shoeing  the 
farm  horses.  He  hoped  to  install  a  cooperative 
laundry  in  connection  with  the  creamery.  He 
hoped  to  see  a  building  sometime,  with  an  audi 
torium  where  the  people  would  meet  often  for 
moving  picture  shows,  lectures  and  the  like, 
and  he  expected  that  most  of  the  descriptions 
of  foreign  lands,  industrial  operations,  wild 
animals — in  short,  everything  that  people 
should  learn  about  by  seeing,  rather  than  read 
ing — would  be  taught  the  children  by  moving 
pictures  accompanied  by  lectures.  He  hoped 
to  open  to  the  boys  and  girls  the  wonders  of 
the  universe  which  are  touched  by  the  work 


158  THE  BRQWN  MOUSE 

on  the  farm.  He  hoped  to  make  good  and  con 
tented  farmers  of  them,  able  to  get  the  most 
out  of  the  soil,  to  sell  what  they  produced  to 
the  best  advantage,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
keep  up  the  fertility  of  the  soil  itself.  And 
he  hoped  to  teach  the  girls  in  such  a  way  that 
they  would  be  good  and  contented  farmers' 
wives.  He  even  had  in  mind  as  a  part  of  the 
schoolhouse  the  Woodruff  District  would  one 
day  build,  an  apartment  in  which  the  mothers 
of  the  neighborhood  would  leave  their  babies 
when  they  went  to  town,  so  that  the  girls  could 
learn  the  care  of  infants. 

"An*  I  say,"  interposed  Con  Bonner,  "that 
we  can  rest  our  case  right  here.  If  that  ain't 
the  limit,  I  don't  know  what  is !" 

"Well,"  said  Jennie,  "do  you  desire  to  rest 
your  case  right  here?" 

Mr.  Bonner  made  no  reply  to  this,  and  Jennie 
turned  to  Jim. 

"Now,  Mr.  Irwin,"  said  she,  "while  you  have 
been  following  out  these  very  interesting  and 
original  methods,  what  have  you  done  in  the 
way  of  teaching  the  things  called  for  by  the 
course  of  study?" 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  159 

"What  is  the  course  of  study?"  queried  Jim. 
"Is  it  anything  more  than  an  outline  of  the 
mental  march  the  pupils  are  ordered  to  make? 
Take  reading:  why  does  it  give  the  children 
any  greater  mastery  of  the  printed  page  to 
read  about  Casabianca  on  the  burning  deck, 
than  about  the  cause  of  the  firing  of  corn  by  hot 
weather?  And  how  can  they  be  given  better 
command  of  language  than  by  writing  about 
things  they  have  found  out  in  relation  to  some 
of  the  sciences  which  are  laid  under  contribu 
tion  by  farming?  Everything  they  do  runs 
into  numbers,  and  we  do  more  arithmetic  than 
the  course  requires.  There  isn't  any  branch 
of  study — not  even  poetry  and  art  and  music — 
that  isn't  touched  by  life.  If  there  is  we  haven't 
time  for  it  in  the  common  schools.  We  work 
out  from  life  to  everything  in  the  course  of 
study." 

"Do  you  mean  to  assert,"  queried  Jennie, 
"that  while  you  have  been  doing  all  this  work 
which  was  never  contemplated  by  those  who 
have  made  up  the  course  of  study,  that  you 
haven't  neglected  anything?" 

"I  mean,"  said  Jim,   "that  I'm  willing  to 


160  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

stand  or  fall  on  an  examination  of  these  chil 
dren  in  the  very  text-books  we  are  accused  of 
neglecting." 

Jennie  looked  steadily  at  Jim  for  a  full 
minute,  and  at  the  clock.  It  was  nearly  time 
for  adjournment. 

"How  many  pupils  of  the  Woodruff  school 
are  here  ?"  she  asked.  "All  rise,  please !" 

A  mass  of  the  audience,  in  the  midst  of  which 
sat  Jennie's  father,  rose  at  the  request. 

"Why,"  said  Jennie,  "I  should  say  we  had  a 
quorum,  anyhow!  How  many  will  come  back 
to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock,  and  bring 
your  school-books?  Please  lift  hands." 

Nearly  every  hand  went  up. 

"And,  Mr.  Irwin,"  she  went  on,  "will  you 
have  the  school  records,  so  we  may  be  able  to 
ascertain  the  proper  standing  of  these  pupils?" 

"I  will,"  said  Jim. 

"Then,"  said  Jennie,  "we'll  adjourn  until 
nine  o'clock.  I  hope  to  see  every  one  here. 
We'll  have  school  here  to-morrow.  And,  Mr. 
Irwin,  please  remember  that  you  state  that 
you'll  stand  or  fall  on  the  mastery  by  these 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  161 

pupils  of  the  text-books  they  are  supposed  to 
have  neglected." 

"Not  the  mastery  of  the  text,"  said  Jim. 
"But  their  ability  to  do  the  work  the  text  is 
supposed  to  fit  them  for." 

"Well,"  said  Jennie,  "I  don't  know  but  that's 
fair." 

"But,"    said    Mrs.    Haakon    Peterson,    "we 
don't  want  our  children  brought  up  to  be  yust 
farmers.     Suppose  we  move  to  town — where 
does  the  culture  come  in?" 
•        ••••••••• 

The  Chicago  papers  had  a  news  item  which 
covered  the  result  of  the  examinations;  but 
the  great  sensation  of  the  Woodruff  District 
lay  in  the  Sunday  feature  carried  by  one  of 
them. 

It  had  a  picture  of  Jim  Irwin,  and  one  of 
Jennie  Woodruff — the  latter  authentic,  and 
the  former  gleaned  from  the  morgue,  and  ap 
parently  the  portrait  of  a  lumber- jack.  There 
was  also  a  very  free  treatment  by  the  car 
toonist  of  Mr.  Simms  carrying  a  rifle  with  the 
intention  of  shooting  up  the  school  board  in 


162  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

case   the   decision    went   against   the   school 
master. 


"When  it  became  known,"  said  the  news 
story,  "that  the  schoolmaster  had  bet  his  job 
on  the  proficiency  of  his  school  in  studies  sup 
posed  and  alleged  to  have  been  studiously 
neglected,  the  excitement  rose  to  fever  heat. 
Local  sports  bet  freely  on  the  result,  the  odds 
being  eight  to  five  on  General  Proficiency 
against  the  field.  The  field  was  Jim  Irwin  and 
his  school.  And  the  way  those  rural  kids  rose 
in  their  might  and  ate  up  the  text-books  was 
simply  scandalous.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
nervousness  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  small 
starters,  and  some  bursts  of  tears  at  excusable 
failures.  But  when  the  fight  was  over,  and 
the  dead  and  wounded  cared  for,  the  school 
board  and  the  county  superintendent  were 
forced  to  admit  that  they  wished  the  average 
school  could  do  as  well  under  a  similar  test. 

"The  local  Mr.  Dooley  is  Cornelius  Bonner, 
a  member  of  the  'board.'  When  asked  for  a 
statement  of  his  views  after  the  county  superin 
tendent  had  decided  that  her  old  sweetheart 
was  to  be  allowed  the  priceless  boon  of  earning 
forty  dollars  a  month  during  the  remainder 
of  his  contract,  Mr.  Bonner  said,  'Aside  from 
being  licked,  we're  all  right.  But  we'll  get  this 
guy  j^et,  don't  fall  down  and  f ergit  that !' 

"  'The  examinations  tind  to  show/  said  Mr. 
Bonner,  when  asked  for  his  opinion  on  the  re- 


FAME  OR  NOTORIETY  163 

suit,  'that  in  or-r-rder  to  larn  anything  you 
shud  shtudy  somethin'  ilse.  But  we'll  git  this 
guy  yit !' ' 

"Jim,"  said  Colonel  Woodruff,  as  they  rode 
home  together,  "the  next  heat  is  the  school 
election.  "We've  got  to  control  that  board  next 
year — and  we've  got  to  do  it  by  electing  one 
out  of  three." 

"Is  that  a  possibility?"  asked  Jim.  "Aren't 
we  sure  to  be  defeated  at  last?  Shouldn't  I  quit 
at  the  end  of  my  contract?  All  I  ever  hoped  for 
was  to  be  allowed  to  fulfill  that.  And  is  it  worth 
the  fight?" 

"It's  not  only  possible,"  replied  the  colonel, 
"but  probable.  As  for  being  worth  while — • 
why,  this  thing  is  too  big  to  drop.  I'm  just 
beginning  to  understand  what  you're  driving 
at.  And  I  like  being  a  wild-eyed  reformer  more 
and  more." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

T^VERY  Iowa  county  has  its  Farmers' 
Institute.  Usually  it  is  held  in  the  county 
seat,  and  is  a  gathering  of  farmers  for  the 
ostensible  purpose  of  listening  to  improving 
discussions  and  addresses  both  instructive  and 
entertaining.  Really,  in  most  cases,  the 
farmers'  institutes  have  been  occasions  for  the 
cultivation  of  relations  between  a  few  of  the 
exceptional  farmers  and  their  city  friends  and 
with  one  another.  Seldom  is  anything  done 
which  leads  to  any  better  selling  methods  for 
the  farmers,  any  organization  looking  to  co 
operative  effort,  or  anything  else  that  an  agri 
cultural  economist  from  Ireland,  Germany  or 
Denmark  would  suggest  as  the  sort  of  action 
which  the  American  farmer  must  take  if  he  is 
to  make  the  most  of  his  life  and  labor. 

The  Woodruff  District  was  interested  in  the 
164 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  165 

institute  however,  because  of  the  fact  that  a 
rural-school  exhibit  was  one  of  its  features  that 
year,  and  that  Colonel  Woodruff  had  secured 
an  urgent  invitation  to  the  school  to  take  part 
in  it. 

"We've  got  something  new  out  in  our  district 
school,"  said  he  to  the  president  of  the  insti 
tute. 

"So  I  hear,"  said  the  president — "mostly  a 
fight,  isn't  it?" 

"Something  more,"  said  the  colonel.  "If 
you'll  persuade  our  school  to  make  an  exhibit 
of  real  rural  work  in  a  real  rural  school,  I'll 
promise  you  something  worth  seeing  and  dis 
cussing." 

Such  exhibits  are  now  so  common  that  it  is 
not  worth  while  for  us  to  describe  it ;  but  then, 
the  sight  of  a  class  of  children  testing  and 
weighing  milk,  examining  grains  for  viability 
and  foul  seeds,  planning  crop  rotations,  judging 
grains  and  live  stock  was  so  new  in  that  county 
as  to  be  the  real  sensation  of  the  institute. 

Two  persons  were  a  good  deal  embarrassed 
by  the  success  of  the  exhibit.  One  was  the 
county  superintendent,  who  was  constantly  in 


166  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

receipt  of  undeserved  compliments  upon  her 
wisdom  in  fostering  really  "practical  work  in 
the  schools."  The  other  was  Jim  Irwin,  who 
was  becoming  famous,  and  who  felt  he  had 
done  nothing  to  deserve  fame.  Professor 
Withers,  an  extension  lecturer  from  Ames,  took 
Jim  to  dinner  at  the  best  hotel  in  the  town,  for 
the  purpose  of  talking  over  with  him  the  needs 
of  the  rural  schools.  Jim  was  in  agony.  The 
colored  waiter  fussed  about  trying  to  keep  Jim 
in  the  beaten  track  of  hotel  manners,  restored 
to  him  the  napkin  which  Jim  failed  to  use, 
and  juggled  back  into  place  the  silverware 
which  Jim  misappropriated  to  alien  and  un 
usual  uses.  But,  when  the  meal  had  progressed 
to  the  stage  of  conversation,  the  waiter  noticed 
that  gradually  the  uncouth  farmer  became 
master  of  the  situation,  and  the  well-groomed 
college  professor  the  interested  listener. 

"You've  got  to  come  down  to  our  farmers' 
week  next  year,  and  tell  us  about  these  things," 
said  he  to  Jim.  "Can't  you  ?" 

Jim's  brain  reeled.  He  go  to  a  gathering  of 
real  educators  and  tell  his  crude  notions !  How 
could  he  get  the  money  for  his  expenses  ?  But 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  167 

he  had  that  gameness  which  goes  with  supreme 
confidence  in  the  thing  dealt  with. 

"I'll  come,"  said  he. 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  Ames  man,  "There's 
a  small  honorarium  attached,  you  know." 

Jim  was  staggered.  What  was  an  honora 
rium?  He  tried  to  remember  what  an  honora 
rium  is,  and  could  get  no  further  than  the 
thought  that  it  is  in  some  way  connected  with 
the  Latin  root  of  "honor."  Was  he  obliged  to 
pay  an  honorarium  for  the  chance  to  speak 
before  the  college  gathering?  Well,  he'd  save 
money  and  pay  it.  The  professor  must  be  able 
to  understand  that  it  couldn't  be  expected  that 
a  country  school-teacher  would  be  able  to  pay 
much.  ' 

"I — I'll  try  to  take  care  of  the  honorarium," 
said  he.  "I'll  come." 

The  professor  laughed.  It  was  the  first  joke 
the  gangling  innovator  had  perpetrated. 

"It  won't  bother  you  to  take  care  of  it,"  said 
he,  "but  if  you're  not  too  extravagant  it  will 
pay  you  your  expenses  and  give  you  a  few  dol 
lars  over." 

Jim  breathed  more  freely.    An  honorarium 


168  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

was  paid  to  the  person  receiving  the  honor, 
then.  What  a  relief! 

"All  right,"  he  exclaimed.  "I'll  be  glad  to 
come !" 

"Let's  consider  that  settled,"  said  the 
professor.  "And  now  I  must  be  going  back  to 
the  opera-house.  My  talk  on  soil  sickness  comes 
next.  I  tell  you,  the  winter  wheat  crop  has 
been—" 

But  Jim  was  not  able  to  think  much  of  the 
winter  wheat  problem  as  they  went  back  to 
the  auditorium.  He  was  worth  putting  on  the 
program  at  a  state  meeting!  He  was  worth 
the  appreciation  of  a  college  professor,  trained 
to  think  on  the  very  matters  Jim  had  been 
so  long  mulling  over  in  isolation  and  blind 
ness!  He  was  actually  worth  paying  for  his 
thoughts. 

Calista  Simms  thought  she  saw  something 
shining  and  saint-like  about  the  homely  face 
of  her  teacher  as  he  came  to  her  at  her  post 
in  the  room  in  which  the  school  exhibit  was 
held.  Calista  was  in  charge  of  the  little  chil 
dren  whose  work  was  to  be  demonstrated  that 
day,  and  was  in  a  state  of  exaltation  to  which 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  169 

her  starved  being  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger. 
Perhaps  there  was  something  similar  in  her 
condition  of  fervent  happiness  to  that  of  Jimt 
She,  too,  was  doing  something  outside  the 
sordid  life  of  the  Simms  cabin.  She  yearned 
over  the  children  in  her  care,  and  would  have 
been  glad  to  die  for  them — and  besides  was  not 
Newton  Bronson  in  charge  of  the  corn  exhibit, 
and  a  member  of  the  corn- judging  team?  To 
the  eyes  of  the  town  girls  who  passed  about 
among  the  exhibits,  she  was  poorly  dressed; 
but  if  they  could  have  seen  the  clothes  she 
had  worn  on  that  evening  when  Jim  Irwin 
first  called  at  their  cabin  and  failed  to  give  a 
whoop  from  the  big  road,  they  could  perhaps 
have  understood  the  sense  of  wellbeing  and 
happiness  in  Calista's  soul  at  the  feeling  of  her 
whole  clean  underclothes,  her  neat,  if  cheap, 
dress,  and  the  "boughten"  cloak  she  wore — and 
any  of  them,  even  without  knowledge  of  this, 
might  have  understood  Calista's  joy  at  the 
knowledge  that  Newton  Bronson's  eyes  were 
on  her  from  his  station  by  the  big  pillar,  no 
matter  how  many  town  girls  filed  by.  For 
therein  they  would  have  been  in  a  realm  of 


170  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  passions  quite  universal  in  its  appeal  to  the 
feminine  soul. 

"Hello,  Calista!"  said  Jim.  "How  are  you 
enjoying  it?" 

"Oh!"  said  Calista,  and  drew  a  long,  long 
breath.  "Ah'm  enjoying  myse'f  right  much, 
Mr.  Jim." 

"Any  of  the  home  folks  coming  in  to  see?" 

"Yes,  seh,"  answered  Calista.  "All  the 
school  board  have  stopped  by  this  morning." 

Jim  looked  about  him.  He  wished  he  could 
see  and  shake  hands  with  his  enemies,  Bronson, 
Peterson  and  Bonner :  and  if  he  could  tell  them 
of  his  success  with  Professor  Withers  of  the 
State  Agricultural  College,  perhaps  they  would 
feel  differently  toward  him.  There  they  were 
now,  over  in  a  corner,  with  their  heads  to 
gether.  Perhaps  they  were  agreeing  among 
themselves  that  he  was  right  in  his  school 
methods,  and  they  wrong.  He  went  toward 
them,  his  face  still  beaming  with  that  radiance 
which  had  shone  so  plainly  to  the  eyes  of 
Calista  Simms,  but  they  saw  in  it  only  a  grin 
of  exultation  over  his  defeat  of  them  at  the 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  171 

hearing  before  Jennie  Woodruff.  When  Mm 
had  drawn  so  close  as  almost  to  call  for  the 
extended  hand,  he  felt  the  repulsion  of  their 
attitudes  and  sheered  off  on  some  pretended 
errand  to  a  dark  corner  across  the  room. 

They  resumed  their  talk. 

"I'm  a  Dimocrat,"  said  Con  Bonner,  "and  you 
fellers  is  Republicans,  and  we've  fought  each 
other  about  who  we  was  to  hire  for  teacher; 
but  when  it  comes  to  electing  my  successor,  I 
think  we  shouldn't  divide  on  party  lines." 

"The  fight  about  the  teacher,"  said  Haakon 
Peterson,  "is  a  t'ing  of  the  past.  All  our  can 
didates  got  odder  yobs  now." 

"Yes,"  said  Ezra  Bronson.  "Prue  Foster 
wouldn't  take  our  school  now  if  she  could 
get  it." 

"And  as  I  was  sayin',"  went  on  Bonner,  "I 
want  to  get  this  guy,  Jim  Irwin.  An'  bein' 
the  cause  of  his  gittin'  the  school,  I'd  like  to  be 
on  the  board  to  kick  him  off;  but  if  you  fellers 
would  like  to  have  some  one  else,  I  won't  run, 
and  if  the  right  feller  is  named,  I'll  line  up 
what  friends  I  got  for  him." 


172  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"You  got  no  friend  can  git  as  many  wotes  as 
you  can,"  said  Peterson.  "I  tank  you  better 
run." 

"What  say,  Ez?"  asked  Bonner. 

"Suits  me  all  right,"  said  Bronson.  "I  guess 
we  three  have  had  our  fight  out  and  understand 
each  other." 

"All  right,"  returned  Bonner,  "I'll  take  the 
office  again.  Let's  not  start  too  soon,  but  say 
we  begin  about  a  week  from  Sunday  to  line  up 
our  friends,  to  go  to  the  school  election  and 
vote  kind  of  unanimous-like  ?" 

"Suits  me,"  said  Bronson. 

"Wery  well,"  said  Peterson. 

"I  don't  like  the  way  Colonel  Woodruff  acts," 
said  Bonner.  "He  rounded  up  that  gang  of 
kids  that  shot  us  all  to  pieces  at  that  hearing, 
didn't  he?" 

"I  tank  not,"  replied  Peterson.  "I  tank  he 
was  yust  interested  in  how  Yennie  managed  it." 

"Looked  mighty  like  he  was  managin'  the 
demonstration,"  said  Bonner.  "What  d'ye 
think,  Ez?" 

"Too  small  a  matter  for  the  colonel  to  monkey 
with,"  said  Bronson.  "I  reckon  he  was  just 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  173 

interested  in  Jennie's  dilemmer.  It  ain't  rea 
sonable  that  Colonel  Woodruff  after  the  political 
career  he's  had  would  mix  up  in  school  district 
politics." 

"Well,"  said  Bonner,  "he  seems  to  take  a  lot 
of  interest  in  this  exhibition  here.  I  think 
we'd  better  watch  the  colonel.  That  decision 
of  Jennie's  might  have  been  because  she's  stuck 
on  Jim  Irwin,  or  because  she  takes  a  lot  of 
notice  of  what  her  father  says." 

"Or  she  might  have  thought  the  decision  was 
right,"  said  Bronson.  "Some  people  do,  you 
know." 

"Right!"  scoffed  Bonner.  "In  a  pig's  wrist! 
I  tell  you  that  decision  was  crooked." 

"Veil,"  said  Haakon  Peterson,  "talk  of 
crookedness  wit'  Yennie  Woodruff  don't  get 
wery  fur  wit'  me." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  anything  bad,  Haakon," 
replied  Bonner,  "but  it  wasn't  an  all-right  de 
cision.  I  think  she's  stuck  on  the  guy." 

The  caucus  broke  up  after  making  sure  that 
the  three  members  of  the  school  board  would 
be  as  one  man  in  maintaining  a  hostile  front 
to  Jim  Irwin  and  his  tenure  of  office.  It 


174  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

looked  rather  like  a  foregone  conclusion,  in  a 
little  district  wherein  there  were  scarcely 
twenty-five  votes.  The  three  members  of  the 
board  with  their  immediate  friends  and  de 
pendents  could  muster  two  or  three  ballots 
each — and  who  was  there  to  oppose  them?  Who 
wanted  to  be  school  director?  It  was  a  post 
of  no  profit,  little  honor  and  much  vexation. 
And  yet,  there  are  always  men  to  be  found 
who  covet  such  places.  Curiously  there  are  al 
ways  those  who  covet  them  for  no  ascertainable 
reason,  for  often  they  are  men  who  have  no 
theory  of  education  to  further,  and  no  fondness 
for  affairs  of  the  intellect.  In  the  Woodruff 
District,  however,  the  incumbents  saw  no  candi 
date  in  view  who  could  be  expected  to  stand 
up  against  the  rather  redoubtable  Con  Bonner. 
Jim's  hold  upon  his  work  seemed  fairly  secure 
for  the  term  of  his  contract,  since  Jennie  had 
decided  that  he  was  competent;  and  after  that 
he  himself  had  no  plans.  He  could  not  expect 
to  be  retained  by  the  men  who  had  so  bitterly 
attacked  him.  Perhaps  the  publicity  of  his 
Ames  address  would  get  him  another  place  with 
a  sufficient  stipend  so  that  he  could  support  hi* 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  175 

mother  without  the  aid  of  the  little  garden,  the 
cows  and  the  fowls — and  perhaps  he  would  ask 
Colonel  Woodruff  to  take  him  back  as  a  farm 
hand.  These  thoughts  thronged  his  mind  as 
he  stood  apart  and  alone  after  his  rebuff  by 
the  caucusing  members  of  the  school  board. 

"I  don't  see,"  said  a  voice  over  against  the 
cooking  exhibit,  "what  there  is  in  this  to 
set  people  talking?  Buttonholes!  Cookies! 
Humph!" 

It  was  Mrs.  Bonner  who  had  clearly  come 
to  scoff.  With  her  was  Mrs.  Bronson,  whose 
attitude  was  that  of  a  person  torn  between 
conflicting  influences.  Her  husband  had  indi 
cated  to  the  crafty  Bonner  and  the  subtle  Pet 
erson  that  while  he  was  still  loyal  to  the  school 
board,  and  hence  perforce  opposed  to  Jim 
Irwin,  and  resentful  to  the  decision  of  the 
county  superintendent,  his  adhesion  to  the  in 
stitutions  of  the  Woodruff  District  as  handed 
down  by  the  fathers  was  not  quite  of  the 
thick-and-thin  type.  For  he  had  suggested  that 
Jennie  might  have  been  sincere  in  rendering 
her  decision,  and  that  some  people  agreed  with 
her:  so  Mrs.  Bronson,  while  consorting  with 


176  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  censorious  Mrs.  Bonner  evinced  restiveness 
when  the  school  and  its  work  was  condemned. 
Was  not  her  Newton  in  charge  of  a  part  of 
this  show!  Had  he  not  taken  great  interest 
in  the  project?  Was  he  not  an  open  and  de 
fiant  champion  of  Jim  Irwin,  and  a  constant 
and  enthusiastic  attendant  upon,  not  only  his 
classes,  but  a  variety  of  evening  and  Saturday 
affairs  at  which  the  children  studied  arithmetic, 
grammar,  geography,  writing  and  spelling,  by 
working  on  cows,  pigs,  chickens,  grains, 
grasses,  soils  and  weeds?  And  had  not  New 
ton  become  a  better  boy — a  wonderfully  better 
boy?  Mrs.  Bronson's  heart  was  filled  with  re 
sentment  that  she  also  could  not  be  enrolled 
among  Jim  Irwin's  supporters.  And  'when 
Mrs.  Bonner  sneered  at  the  buttonholes  and 
cookies,  Mrs.  Bronson,  knowing  how  the  little 
fingers  had  puzzled  themselves  over  the  one, 
and  young  faces  had  become  floury  and  red 
over  the  other,  flared  up  a  little. 

"And  I  don't  see,"  said  she,  "anything  to 
laugh  at  when  the  young  girls  do  the  best  they 
can  to  make  themselves  capable  housekeepers. 
I'd  like  to  help  them." 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  177 

She  turned  to  Mrs.  Bonner  as  if  to  add  "If 
this  be  treason,  make  the  most  of  it!"  but 
that  lady  was  far  too  good  a  diplomat  to  be 
cornered  in  the  same  enclosure  with  a  rupture 
of  relations. 

"And  quite  right,  too,"  said  she,  "in  the 
proper  place,  and  at  the  proper  time.  The 
little  things  ought  to  be  helped  by  every  real 
woman — of  course!" 

"Of  course,"  repeated  Mrs.  Bronson. 

"At  home,  now.,  and  by  their  mothers,"  added 
Mrs.  Bonner. 

"Well,"  laid  Mrs.  Bronson,  "take  them 
Simms  girls,  now.  They  have  to  have  help 
outside  their  home  if  they  are  ever  going  to 
be  like  other  folks." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Mrs.  Bonner,  "and  a  lot  more 
help  than  a  farm-hand  can  give  'em  in  school. 
Pretty  poor  trash,  they,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  there  was  a  lot  we  don't  know  about  why 
they  come  north." 

"As  for  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Bronson,  "I  don't 
know  as  it's  any  of  my  business  so  long  as 
they  behave  themselves." 

Again  Mrs.  Bonner  felt  the  situation  get- 


178  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ting  out  of  hand,  and  again  she  returned  to 
the  task  of  keeping  Mrs.  Bronson  in  alignment 
with  the  forces  of  accepted  Woodruff  District 
conditions. 

"Ain't  it  some  of  our  business?"  she 
queried.  "I  wonder  now !  By  the  way  Newtie 
keeps  his  eye  on  that  Simms  girl,  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  it  might  turn  out  your  business." 

"Pshaw!"  scoffed  Mrs.  Bronson.  "Puppy 
love!" 

"You  can't  tell  how  far  it'll  go,"  persisted 
Mrs.  Bonner.  "I  tell  you  these  schools  are 
getting  to  be  nothing  more  than  sparkin' 
bees,  from  the  county  superintendent  down." 

"Well,  maybe,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson,  "but  I 
don't  see  sparkin'  in  everything  boys  and  girls 
do  as  quick  as  some." 

"I  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Bonner,  "if  Colonel 
Woodruff  would  be  as  friendly  to  Jim  Irwin 
if  he  knew  that  everybody  says  Jennie  decided 
he  was  to  keep  his  certif 'kit  because  she  wants 
him  to  get  along  in  the  world,  so  he  can  marry 
her?" 

"I  don't  know  as  she  is  so  very  friendly  to 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  179 

him,"  replied  Mrs.  Bronson;  "and  Jim  and 
Jennie  are  both  of  age,  you  know." 

"Yes,  but  how  about  our  schools  bein'  ruined 
by  a  love  affair?"  interrogated  Mrs.  Bonner,  as 
they  moved  away.  "Ain't  that  your  business 
and  mine?" 

Instead  of  desiring  further  knowledge  of 
what  they  were  discussing,  Jim  felt  a  dreadful 
disgust  at  the  whole  thing.  Disgust  at  being 
the  subject  of  gossip,  at  the  horrible  falsity 
of  the  picture  he  had  been  able  to  paint  to  the 
people  of  his  objects  and  his  ambitions,  and 
especially  at  the  desecration  of  Jennie  by  such 
misconstruction  of  her  attitude  toward  him 
officially  and  personally.  Jennie  was  vexed  at 
him,  and  wanted  him  to  resign  from  his  posi 
tion.  He  firmly  believed  that  she  was  surprised 
at  finding  herself  convinced  that  he  was  en 
titled  to  a  decision  in  the  matter  of  his  compe 
tency  as  a  teacher.  She  was  against  him,  he 
believed,  and  as  for  her  being  in  love  with 
him — to  hear  these  women  discuss  it  was  in 
tolerable. 

He  felt  his  face  redden  as  at  the  hearing  of 


180  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

some  horrible  indecency.  He  felt  himself 
stripped  naked,  and  he  was  hotly  ashamed  that 
Jennie  should  be  associated  with  him  in  the 
exposure.  And  while  he  was  raging  inwardly, 
paying  the  penalty  of  his  new-found  place  in 
the  public  eye — a  publicity  to  which  he  was 
not  yet  hardened — he  heard  other  voices.  Pro^ 
fessor  Withers,  County  Superintendent  Jennie 
and  Colonel  Woodruff  were  making  an  inspec 
tion  of  the  rural-school  exhibit. 

"I  hear  he  has  been  having  some  trouble 
with  his  school  board,"  the  professor  was 
saying. 

"Yes,"  said  Jennie,  "he  has." 

"Wasn't  there  an  effort  made  to  remove  him 
from  his  position?"  asked  the  professor. 

"Proceedings  before  me  to  revoke  his  cer 
tificate,"  replied  Jennie. 

"On  what  grounds?" 

"Incompetency,"  answered  Jennie.  "I  found 
that  his  pupils  were  really  doing  very  well  in 
the  regular  course  of  study — which  he  seems 
to  be  neglecting." 

"Fm  glad  you  supported  him,"  said  the 
professor.  "I'm  glad  to  find  you  helping  him." 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  181 

"Really,"  protested  Jennie,  "I  don't  think 
myself—" 

"What  do  you  think  of  his  notions?"  asked 
the  colonel. 

"Very  advanced,"  replied  Professor  Withers. 
"Where  did  he  imbibe  them  all?" 

"He's  a  Brown  Mouse,"  said  the  colonel. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  puzzled 
professor.  "I  didn't  quite  understand.  A — a — 
what?" 

"One  of  papa's  breeding  jokes,"  said  Jennie. 
"He  means  a  phenomenon  in  heredity — per 
haps  a  genius,  you  know." 

"Ah,  I  see,"  replied  the  professor,  "a  Men- 
delian  segregation,  you  mean?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  colonel.  "The  sort  of 
mind  that  imbibes  things  from  itself." 

"Well,  he's  rather  wonderful,"  declared  the 
professor.  "I  had  him  to  lunch  to-day.  He 
surprised  me.  I  have  invited  him  to  make  an 
address  at  Ames  next  winter  during  farmers' 
week." 

"He?" 

Jennie's  tone  showed  her  astonishment.  Jim 
the  underling.  Jim  the  off  ox.  Jim  the  thorn 


182  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

in  the  county  superintendent's  side.    Jim  the 
country  teacher!    It  was  stupefying. 

"Oh,  you  musn't  judge  him  by  his  looks," 
said  the  professor.  "I  really  do  hope  he'll  take 
some  advice  on  the  matter  of  clothes — put  on 
a  cravat  and  a  different  shirt  and  collar  when 
he  comes  to  Ames — but  I  have  no  doubt  he 
will." 

"He  hasn't  any  other,"  said  the  colonel. 

"Well,  it  won't  signify,  if  he  has  the  truth 
to  tell  us,"  said  the  professor. 
.  "Has  he?"  asked  Jennie. 

"Miss  Woodruff,"  replied  the  professor 
earnestly,  "he  has  something  that  looks  toward 
truth,  and  something  that  we  need.  Just  how 
far  he  will  go,  just  what  he  will  amount  to, 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  But  something  must 
be  done  for  the  rural  schools — something  along 
the  lines  he  is  trying  to  follow.  He  is  a  strug 
gling  soul,  and  he  is  worth  helping.  You  won't 
make  any  mistake  if  you  make  the  most  of  Mr. 
Irwin." 

Jim  slipped  out  of  a  side  door  and  fled.  As 
in  the  case  of  the  conversation  between  Mrs. 
Bronson  and  Mrs.  Bonner,  he  was  unable  to 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  183 

discern  the  favorable  auspices  in  the  showing 
of  adverse  things.  He  had  not  sensed  Mrs. 
Bronson's  half -concealed  friendliness  for  him, 
though  it  was  disagreeably  plain  to  Mrs. 
Bonner.  And  now  he  neglected  the  colonel's 
evident  support  of  him,  and  Professor  Withers' 
praise,  in  Jennie's  manifest  surprise  that  old 
Jim  had  been  accorded  the  recognition  of  a 
place  on  a  college  program,  and  the  profes 
sor's  criticism  of  his  dress  and  general  ap 
pearance. 

It  was  unjust!  What  chance  had  he  been 
given  to  discover  what  it  was  fashionable  to 
wear,  even  if  he  had  had  the  money  to  buy 
such  clothes  as  other  young  men  possessed?  He 
would  never  go  near  Ames!  He  would  stay 
in  the  Woodruff  District  where  the  people 
knew  him,  and  some  of  them  liked  him.  He 
would  finish  his  school  year,  and  go  back  to 
work  on  the  farm.  He  would  abandon  the 
struggle. 

He  started  home,  on  foot  as  he  had  come. 
A  mile  or  so  out  he  was  overtaken  by  the 
colonel,  driving  briskly  along  with  room  in  his 
buggy  for  Jim. 


184  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Climb  in,  Jim!"  said  he.  "Dan  and  Dolly 
didn't  like  to  see  you  walk." 

"They're  looking  fine,"  said  Jim. 

There  is  a  good  deal  to  say  whenever  two 
horse  lovers  get  together.  Hoofs  and  coats 
and  frogs  and  eyes  and  teeth  and  the  queer 
sympathies  between  horse  and  man  may  some 
times  quite  take  the  place  of  the  weather  for 
an  hour  or  so.  But  when  Jim  had  alighted  at 
his  own  door,  the  colonel  spoke  of  what  had 
been  in  his  mind  all  the  time. 

"I  saw  Bonner  and  Haakon  and  Ez  doing 
some  caucusing  to-day,"  said  he.  "They  expect 
to  elect  Bonner  to  the  board  again." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Jim. 

"Well,  what  shall  we  do  about  it?"  asked  the 
colonel. 

"If  the  people  want  him — "  began  Jim. 

"The  people,"  said  the  colonel,  "must  have 
a  choice  offered  to  'em,  or  how  can  you  or  any 
man  tell  what  they  want?  How  can  they  tell 
themselves?" 

Jim  was  silent.  Here  was  a  matter  on 
which  he  really  had  no  ideas  except  the  broad 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  185 

and  general  one  that  truth  is  mighty  and  shall 
prevail — but  that  the  speed  of  its  forward 
march  is  problematical. 

"I  think,"  said  the  colonel,  "that  if  s  up  to 
us  to  see  that  the  people  have  a  chance  to 
decide.  It's  really  Bonner  against  Jim  Irwin." 

"That's  rather  startling,"  said  Jim,  "but  I 
suppose  it's  true.  And  much  chance  Jim  Irwin 
has!" 

"I  calculate,"  rejoined  the  colonel,  "that 
what  you  need  is  a  champion." 

"To  do  what?" 

"To  take  that  office  away  from  Bonner." 

"Who  can  do  that?" 

"Well,  I'm  free  to  say  I  don't  know  that 
any  one  can,  but  I'm  willing  to  try.  I  think 
that  in  about  a  week  I  shall  pass  the  word 
around  that  I'd  like  to  serve  my  country  on 
the  school  board." 

Jim's  face  lighted  up — and  then  darkened, 

"Even  then  they'd  be  two  to  one,  Colonel." 

"Maybe,"  replied  the  colonel,  "and  maybe 
not.  That  would  have  to  be  figured  on.  A 
cracked  log  splits  easy." 


186  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

" Anyhow,"  Jim  went  on,  "what's  the  use?  I 
shan't  be  disturbed  this  year — and  after  that — ; 
what's  the  use?" 

"Why,  Jim,"  said  the  colonel,  "you  aren't 
getting  short  of  breath  are  you?  Do  I  see 
frost  on  your  boots?  I  thought  you  good  for 
the  mile,  and  you  aren't  turning  out  a  quarter 
horse,  are  you?  I  don't  know  what  all  it  is 
you  want  to  do,  but  I  don't  believe  you  can 
do  it  in  nine  months,  can  you?" 

"Not  in  nine  years !"  replied  Jim. 

"Well,  then,  let's  plan  for  ten  years,"  said 
the  colonel.  "I  ain't  going  to  become  a  re 
former  at  my  time  of  life  as  a  temporary  job. 
Will  you  stick  if  we  can  swing  the  thing  for 
you?" 

"I  will,"  said  Jim,  in  the  manner  of  a  person 
taking  the  vows  in  some  solemn  initiation. 

"All  right,"  said  the  colonel.  "We'll  keep 
quiet  and  see  how  many  votes  we  can  muster 
up  at  the  election.  How  many  can  you  speak 
for?" 

Jim  gave  himself  for  a  few  minutes  to 
thought.  It  was  a  new  thing  to  him,  this  mat- 
fcer  of  mustering  votes — and  a  thing  which  he 


THE  COLONEL  TAKES  THE  FIELD  187 

had  always  looked  upon  as  rather  reprehen 
sible.  The  citizen  should  go  forth  with  no 
coercion,  no  persuasion,  no  suggestion,  and 
vote  his  sentiments. 

"How  many  can  you  round  up?"  persisted 
the  colonel. 

"I  think,"  said  Jim,  "that  I  can  speak  for 
myself  and  Old  Man  Simms !" 

The  colonel  laughed. 

"Fine  politician!"  he  repeated.  "Fine  poli 
tician  !  Well,  Jim,  we  may  get  beaten  in  this, 
but  if  we  are,  let's  not  have  them  going  away 
picking  their  noses  and  saying  they've  had  nc 
fight.  You  round  up  yourself  and  Old  Man 
Simms  and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do — I'll  see  what 
I  can  do!" 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE 

TiTARCH  came  in  like  neither  a  lion  nor  a 
•*•  lamb,  but  was  scarcely  a  week  old  before 
the  wild  ducks  had  begun  to  score  the  sky 
above  Bronson's  Slew  looking  for  open  water 
and  badly-harvested  corn-fields.  Wild  geese, 
too,  honked  from  on  high  as  if  in  wonder  that 
these  great  prairies  on  which  their  forefathers 
had  been  wont  fearlessly  to  alight  had  been 
changed  into  a  disgusting  expanse  of  farms.  II 
geese  are  favored  with  the  long  lives  in  which 
fable  bids  us  believe,  some  of  these  venerable 
honkers  must  have  seen  every  vernal  and  au 
tumnal  phase  of  the  transformation  from 
boundless  prairie  to  boundless  corn-land.  I 
sometimes  seem  to  hear  in  the  bewildering 
trumpetings  of  wild  geese  a  cry  of  surprise 
and  protest  at  the  ruin  of  their  former  para 
dise.  Colonel  Woodruff's  hired  man,  Pete, 
188 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  189 

had  no  such  foolish  notions,  however.  He 
stopped  Newton  Bronson  and  Raymond  Simms 
as  they  tramped  across  the  colonel's  pasture, 
gun  in  hand,  trying  to  make  themselves  believe 
that  the  shooting  was  good. 

"This  ain't  no  country  to  hunt  in,"  said  he. 
"Did  either  of  you  fellows  ever  have  any  real 
duck-shooting?" 

"The  mountings,"  said  Raymond,  "air  poor 
places  for  ducks." 

"Not  big  enough  water,"  suggested  Pete. 
"Some  wood-ducks,  I  suppose?" 

"Along  the  creeks  and  rivers,  yes,  seh,"  said 
Raymond,  "and  sometimes  a  flock  of  wild  geese 
would  get  lost,  and  some  bewildered,  and  a 
man  would  shoot  one  or  two — from  the  tops  of 
the  ridges — but  nothing  to  depend  on." 

"I've  never  been  nowhere,"  said  Newton, 
"except  once  to  Minnesota — and — and  that 
wasn't  in  the  shooting  season." 

A  year  ago  Newton  would  have  boasted  of 
having  "bummed"  his  way  to  Faribault.  His 
hesitant  speech  was  a  proof  of  the  embarrass 
ment  his  new  respectability  sometimes  inflicted 
upon  him. 


190  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"I  used  to  shoot  ducks  for  the  market  at 
Spirit  Lake,"  said  Pete.  "I  know  Fred  Gilbert 
just  as  well  as  I  know  you.  If  Fd  'a'  kep'  on 
shooting  I  could  have  made  my  millions  as 
champion  wing  shot  as  easy  as  he  has.  He 
didn't  have  nothing  on  me  when  we  was  both 
shooting  for  a  livin'.  But  that's  all  over,  now. 
You've  got  to  go  so  fur  now  to  get  decent 
shooting  where  the  farmers  won't  drive  you 
off,  that  it  costs  nine  dollars  to  send  a  post 
card  home." 

"I  think  we'll  have  fine  shooting  on  the  slew 
in  a  few  days,"  said  Newton. 

"Humph!"  scoffed  Pete.  "I  give  you  my 
word,  if  I  hadn't  promised  the  colonel  I'd  stay 
with  him  another  year,  I'd  take  a  side-door 
Pullman  for  the  Sand  Hills  of  Nebraska  or 
the  Devil's  Lake  country  to-morrow — if  I  had 
a  gun." 

"If  it  wasn't  for  a  passel  of  things  that  keep 
me  hyeh,"  said  Raymond,  "I'd  like  to  go  too." 

"The  colonel,"  said  Pete,  "needs  me.  He 
needs  me  in  the  election  to-morrow.  What's 
the  matter  of  your  oP  man,  Newt?  What  for 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  191 

does  he  vote  for  that  Bonner,  and  throw  down 
an  old  neighbor?" 

"I  can't  do  anything  with  him!"  exclaimed 
Newton  irritably.  "He's  all  tangled  up  with 
Peterson  and  Bonner." 

"Well,"  said  Pete,  "if  he'd  just  stay  at  home, 
it  would  help  some.  If  he  votes  for  Bonner, 
it'll  be  just  about  a  stand-off." 

"He  never  misses  a  vote!"  said  Newton 
despairingly. 

"Can't  you  cripple  him  someway?"  asked 
Pete  jocularly.  "Darned  funny  when  a  boy  o' 
your  age  can't  control  his  father's  vote!  So 
long!" 

"I  wish  I  could  vote !"  grumbled  Newton.  "I 
wish  I  could!  We  know  a  lot  more  about  the 
school,  and  Jim  Irwin  bein'  a  good  teacher  than 
dad  does — and  we  can't  vote.  Why  can't  folks 
vote  when  they  are  interested  in  an  election, 
and  know  about  the  issues.  It's  tyranny  that 
you  and  I  can't  vote." 

"I  reckon,"  said  Raymond,  the  conservative, 
"that  the  old-time  people  that  fixed  it  thata- 
way  knowed  best." 


192  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Rats!"  sneered  Newton,  the  iconoclast. 
"Why,  Calista  knows  more  about  the  election  of 
school  director  than  dad  knows." 

"That  don't  seem  reasonable,"  protested 
Raymond.  "She's  prejudyced,  I  reckon,  in 
favor  of  Mr.  Jim  Irwin." 

"Well,  dad's  prejudiced  against  him, — er, 
no,  he  hain't  either.  He  likes  Jim.  He's  just 
prejudiced  against  giving  up  his  old  notions. 
No,  he  hain't  neither — I  guess  he's  only  preju 
diced  against  seeming  to  give  up  some  old  no 
tions  he  seemed  to  have  once!  And  the  kids 
in  school  would  be  prejudiced  right,  anyhow!" 

"Paw  says  he'll  be  on  hand  prompt,"  said 
Raymond.  "But  he  had  to  be  p'swaded  right 
much.  Paw's  proud — and  he  cain't  read." 

"Sometimes  I  think  the  more  people  read  the 
less  sense  they've  got,"  said  Newton.  "I  wish 
I  could  tie  dad  up !  I  wish  I  could  get  snakebit, 
and  make  him  go  for  the  doctor !" 

The  boys  crossed  the  ridge  to  the  wooded 
valley  in  which  nestled  the  Simms  cabin.  They 
found  Mrs.  Simms  greatly  exercised  in  her 
mind  because  young  McGeehee  had  been  found 
playing  with  some  blue  vitriol  used  by  Ray- 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  193 

mond  in  his  school  work  on  the  treatment  of 
seed  potatoes  for  scab. 

"His  hands  was  all  blue  with  it,"  said  she. 
"Do  you  reckon,  Mr.  Newton,  that  it'll  pizen 
him?" 

"Did  he  swallow  any  of  it?"  asked  Newton. 

"Nah!"  said  McGeehee  scornfully. 

Newton  reassured  Mrs.  Simms,  and  went 
away  pensive.  He  was  in  rebellion  against  the 
strange  ways  grown  men  have  of  discharging 
their  duties  as  citizens — a  rather  remarkable 
thing,  and  perhaps  a  proof  that  Jim  Irwin's 
methods  had  already  accomplished  much  in 
preparing  Newton  and  Raymond  for  citizen 
ship.  He  had  shown  them  the  fact  that  voting 
really  has  some  relation  to  life.  At  present, 
however,  the  new  wine  in  the  old  bottles  was 
causing  Newton  to  forget  his  filial  duty,  and 
his  respect  for  his  father.  He  wished  he  could 
lock  him  up  in  the  barn  so  he  couldn't  go  to 
the  school  election.  He  wished  he  could  become 
ill — or  poisoned  with  blue  vitriol  or  something 
— so  his  father  would  be  obliged  to  go  for  a 

doctor.  He  wished well,  why  couldn't  he 

get  sick.  Mrs.  Simms  had  been  about  to  send 


194  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

for  the  doctor  for  Buddy  when  he  had  ex 
plained  away  the  apparent  necessity.  People 

got  dreadfully  scared  about  poison Newton 

mended  his  pace,  and  looked  happier.  He 
looked  very  much  as  he  had  done  on  the  day 
he  adjusted  the  needle-pointed  muzzle  to  his 
dog's  nose.  He  looked,  in  fact,  more  like  a 
person  filled  with  deviltry,  than  one  yearning 
for  the  right  to  vote. 

"I'll  fix  him!"  said  he  to  himself. 

"What  time's  the  election,  Ez?"  asked  Mrs. 
Bronson  at  breakfast. 

"I'm  goin'  at  four  o'clock,"  said  Ezra.  "And 
i.  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  from  any  one" — 
looking  at  Newton — "about  the  election.  It's 
none  of  the  business  of  the  women  an'  boys." 

Newton  took  this  reproof  in  an  unexpectedly 
submissive  spirit.  In  fact,  he  exhibited  his 
very  best  side  to  the  family  that  morning,  like 
one  going  on  a  long  journey,  or  about  to  be 
married  off,  or  engaged  in  some  deep  dark 
plot. 

"I  s'pose  you're  off  trampin'  the  slews  at 
the  sight  of  a  fiock  of  ducks  four  miles  off  as 
usual?"  stated  Mr.  Bronson  challengingly. 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  195 

"I  thought,"  said  Newton,  "that  I'd  get  a 
lot  of  raisin  bait  ready  for  the  pocket-gophers 
in  the  lower  meadow.  They'll  be  throwing  up 
their  mounds  by  the  first  of  April." 

"Not  them,"  said  Mr.  Bronson,  somewhat 
mollified,  "not  before  May.  Where'd  you  get 
the  raisin  idee?" 

"We  learned  it  in  school,"  answered  Newton. 
"Jim  had  me  study  a  bulletin  on  the  control 
and  eradication  of  pocket-gophers.  You  use 
raisins  with  strychnine  in  'em — and  it  tells 
how." 

"Some  fool  notion,  I  s'pose,"  said  Mr. 
Bronson,  rising.  "But  go  ahead  if  you're  care 
ful  about  handlin'  the  strychnine." 

Newton  spent  the  time  from  twelve-thirty 
to  half  after  two  in  watching  the  clock;  and 
twenty  minutes  to  three  found  him  seated  in 
the  woodshed  with  a  pen-knife  in  his  hand,  a 
small  vial  of  strychnine  crystals  on  a  stand 
before  him,  a  saucer  of  raisins  at  his  right 
hand,  and  one  exactly  like  it,  partially  filled 
with  gopher  bait — by  which  is  meant  raisins 
under  the  skin  of  each  of  which  a  minute 
crystal  of  strychnine  had  been  inserted  on  the 


196  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

point  of  the  knife.  Newton  was  apparently 
happy  and  was  whistling  The  Glow-Worm.  It 
was  a  lovely  scene  if  one  can  forget  the  gopher's 
point  of  view. 

At  three-thirty,  Newton  went  into  the  house 
and  lay  down  on  the  horsehair  sofa,  saying  to 
his  mother  that  he  felt  kind  o'  funny  and 
thought  he'd  lie  down  a  while.  At  three-forty 
he  heard  his  father's  voice  in  the  kitchen  and 
knew  that  his  sire  was  preparing  to  start  for 
the  scene  of  battle  between  Colonel  Woodruff 
and  Con  Bonner,  on  the  result  of  which  hinged 
the  future  of  Jim  Irwin  and  the  Woodruff 
school. 

A  groan  issued  from  Newton's  lips — a 
gruesome  groan  as  of  the  painful  death  of  a 
person  very  sensitive  to  physical  suffering. 
But  his  father's  voice  from  the  kitchen  door 
betrayed  no  agitation.  He  was  scolding  the 
horses  as  they  stood  tied  to  the  hitching-post, 
in  tones  that  showed  no  knowledge  of  his 
son's  distressed  moans. 

"What's  the  matter?" 

It  was  Newton's  little  sister  who  asked  the 
question,  her  facial  expression  evincing  appre- 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  197 

elation  of  Newton's  efforts  in  the  line  of 
groans,  somewhat  touched  with  awe.  Even 
though  regarded  as  a  pure  matter  of  make- 
believe,  such  sounds  were  terrible. 

"Oh,  sister,  sister!"  howled  Newton,  "run 
and  tell  'em  that  brother's  dying!" 

Fanny  disappeared  in  a  manner  which 
expressed  her  balanced  feelings — she  felt  that 
her  brother  was  making  believe,  but  she  be 
lieved  for  all  that,  that  something  awful  was 
the  matter.  So  she  went  rather  slowly  to  the 
kitchen  door,  and  casually  remarked  that 
Newton  was  dying  on  the  sofa  in  the  sitting- 
room. 

"You  little  fraud!"  said  her  father. 

"Why,  Fanny!"  said  her  mother — and  ran 
into  the  sitting-room — whence  in  a  moment, 
with  a  cry  that  was  almost  a  scream,  she  sum 
moned  her  husband,  who  responded  at  the  top 
of  his  speed. 

Newton  was  groaning  and  in  convulsions. 
Horrible  grimaces  contorted  his  face,  his  jaws 
were  set,  his  arms  and  legs  drawn  up,  and 
his  muscles  tense. 

"What's  the  matter  ?"    His  father's  voice  was 


THE  BROWN  MOUSE 


stern  as  well  as  full  of  anxiety.  "What's  the 
matter,  boy?" 

"Oh!"  cried  Newton.     "Oh!     Oh!     Oh!" 

"Newtie,  Newtie!"  cried  his  mother,  "where 
are  you  in  pain?  Tell  mother,  Newtie!" 

"Oh,"  groaned  Newtie,  relaxing,  "I  feel 
awful!" 

"What  you  been  eating?"  interrogated  his 
father. 

"Nothing,"  replied  Newton. 

"I  saw  you  eatin'  dinner,"  said  his  father. 

Again  Newton  was  convulsed  by  strong 
spasms,  and  again  his  groans  filled  the  hearts 
of  his  parents  with  terror. 

"That's  all  I've  eaten,"  said  he,  when  his 
spasms  had  passed,  "except  a  few  raisins.  I 
was  putting  strychnine  in  'em  -  " 

"Oh,  heavens!"  cried  his  mother.  "He's 
poisoned  !  Drive  for  the  doctor,  Ezra  !  Drive  !" 

Mr.  Bronson  forgot  all  about  the  election  —  » 
forgot  everything  save  antidotes  and  speed.  He 
leaped  toward  the  door.  As  he  passed  out,  he 
shouted  "Give  him  an  emetic!"  He  tore  the 
hitching  straps  from  the  posts,  jumped  into  the 
buggy  and  headed  for  the  road.  Skilfully  avoid- 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  199 

ing  an  overturn  as  he  rounded  into  the  high 
way,  he  gave  the  spirited  horses  their  heads, 
and  fled  toward  town,  carefully  computing  the 
speed  the  horses  could  make  and  still  be  able 
to  return.  Mile  after  mile  he  covered,  passing 
teams,  keeping  ahead  of  automobiles  and  ad 
vertising  panic.  Just  at  the  town  limits,  he 
met  the  doctor  in  Sheriff  Dilly's  automobile, 
the  sheriff  himself  at  the  steering  wheel.  Mr. 
Bronson  signaled  them  to  stop,  ignoring  the 
fact  that  they  were  making  similar  signs  to 
him. 

"We're  just  starting  for  your  place,"  said 
the  doctor.  "Your  wife  got  me  on  the  phone." 

"Thank  God!"  replied  Bronson.  "Don't  fool 
any  time  away  on  me.  Drive !" 

"Get  in  here,  Ez,"  said  the  sheriff.  "Doc 
knows  how  to  drive,  and  I'll  come  on  with  your 
team.  They  need  a  slow  drive  to  cool  'em  off." 

"Why  didn't  you  phone  me?"  asked  the 
doctor. 

"Never  thought  of  it,"  replied  Bronson.  "I 
hain't  had  the  phone  only  a  few  years.  Drive 
faster!" 

"I  want  to  get  there,  or  I  would,"  answered 


200  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  doctor.  "Don't  worry.  From  what  your 
wife  told  me  over  the  phone  I  don't  believe 
the  boy's  eaten  any  more  strychnine  than  I 
have — and  probably  not  so  much." 

"He  was  alive,  then?" 

"Alive  and  making  an  argument  against 
taking  the  emetic,"  replied  the  doctor.  "But 
I  guess  she  got  it  down  him." 

"I'd  hate  to  lose  that  boy,  Doc!" 

"I  don't  believe  there's  any  danger.  It 
doesn't  sound  like  a  genuine  poisoning  case 
to  me." 

Thus  reassured,  Mr.  Bronson  was  calm,  even 
if  somewhat  tragic  in  calmness,  when  he 
entered  the  death  chamber  with  the  doctor. 
Newton  was  sitting  up,  his  eyes  wet,  and  his 
face  pale.  His  mother  had  won  the  argument, 
and  Newton  had  lost  his  dinner.  Haakon 
Peterson  occupied  an  armchair. 

"What's  all  this?"  asked  the  doctor.  "How 
you  feeling,  Newt?  Any  pain?" 

"I'm  all  right,"  said  Newton.  "Don't  give 
me  any  more  o'  that  nasty  stuff!" 

"No,"  said  the  doctor,  "but  if  you  don't  tell 
me  just  what  you've  been  eating,  and  doing, 


A  MINOR  CASTS  HALF  A  VOTE  201 

and  pulling  off  on  us,  I'll  use  this"— and  the 
doctor  exhibited  a  huge  stomach  pump. 

"What'll  you  do  with  that?"  asked  Newton 
faintly. 

"I'll  put  this  down  into  your  hold,  and  unload 
you,  that's  what  I'll  do." 

"Is  the  election  over,  Mr.  Peterson?"  asked 
Newton. 

"Yes,"  answered  Mr.  Peterson,  "and  the 
votes  counted." 

"Who's  elected?"  asked  Newton. 

"Colonel  Woodruff,"  answered  Mr.  Peterson. 
"The  vote  was  twelve  to  eleven." 

"Well,  dad,"  said  Newton,  "I  s'pose  you'll 
be  sore,  but  the  only  way  I  could  see  to  get  in 
half  a  vote  for  Colonel  Woodruff  Vas  to  get 
poisoned  and  send  you  after  the  doctor.  If 
you'd  gone,  it  would  'a*  been  a  tie,  anyhow,  and 
probably  you'd  'a'  persuaded  somebody  to 
change  to  Bonner.  That's  what's  the  matter 
with  me.  I  killed  your  vote.  Now,  you  can 
do  whatever  you  like  to  me — but  I'm  sorry  I 
scared  mother." 

Ezra  Bronson  seized  Newton  by  the 
throat,  but  his  fingers  failed  to  close.  "Don't 


202  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

pinch,  dad,"  said  Newton.  "I've  been  using 
that  neck  an'  it's  tired."  Mr.  Bronson  dropped 
his  hands  to  his  sides,  glared  at  his  son  for  a 
moment  and  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Why,  you  darned  infernal  little  fool,"  said 
he.  "I've  a  notion  to  take  a  hamestrap  to 
you!  If  I'd  been  there  the  vote  would  have 
been  eleven  to  thirteen!" 

"There  was  plenty  wotes  there  for  the  colonel, 
if  he  needed  'em,"  said  Haakon,  whose  poli 
tician's  mind  was  already  fully  adjusted  to  the 
changed  conditions.  "Ay  tank  the  Woodruff 
District  will  have  a  j  unanimous  school  board 
from  dis  time  on  once  more.  Colonel  Wood 
ruff  is  yust  the  man  we  have  needed." 

"I'm  with  you  there,"  said  Bronson.  "And 
as  for  you,  young  man,  if  one  or  both  of  them 
horses  is  hurt  by  the  run  I  give  them,  I'll  lick 

you  within  an  inch  of  your  life Here 

comes  Dilly  driving  'em  in  now I  guess 

they're  all  right.  I  wouldn't  want  to  drive  a 
good  team  to  death  for  any  young  hoodlum  like 

him All  right,  how  much  do  I  owe  you. 

Doc?" 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH 

A  GOOD  deal  of  water  ran  under  the 
***•  Woodruff  District  bridges  in  the  weeks 
between  the  school  election  and  the  Fourth 
of  July  picnic  at  Eight-Mile  Grove.  They  were 
very  important  weeks  to  Jim  Irwin,  though 
outwardly  uneventful.  Great  events  are  often 
mere  imperceptible  developments  of  the 
spirit. 

Spring,  for  instance,  brought  a  sort  of 
spiritual  crisis  to  Jim;  for  he  had  to  face  the 
accusing  glance  of  the  fields  as  they  were 
plowed  and  sown  while  he  lived  indoors.  As 
he  labored  at  the  tasks  of  the  Woodruff  school 
he  was  conscious  of  a  feeling  not  very  easily 
distinguished  from  a  sense  of  guilt.  It  seemed 
that  there  must  be  something  almost  wicked 
in  his  failure  to  be  afield  with  his  team  in  the 
early  spring  mornings  when  the  woolly  anem- 
203 


204  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ones  appeared  in  their  fur  coats,  the  heralds 
of  the  later  comers — violets,  sweet-williams, 
puccoons,  and  the  scarlet  prairie  lilies. 

A  moral  crisis  accompanies  the  passing  of 
a  man  from  the  struggle  with  the  soil  to  any 
occupation,  the  productiveness  of  which  is  not 
quite  so  clear.  It  requires  a  keenly  sensitive 
nature  to  feel  conscious  of  it,  but  Jim  Irwin 
possessed  such  a  temperament;  and  from  the 
beginning  of  the  daily  race  with  the  seasons, 
which  makes  the  life  of  a  northern  farmer  an 
eight  months'  Marathon  in  which  to  fall  be 
hind  for  a  week  is  to  lose  much  of  the  year's 
reward,  the  gawky  schoolmaster  slept  uneasily, 
and  heard  the  earliest  cock-crow  as  a  soldier 
hears  a  call  to  arms  to  which  he  has  made  up 
his  mind  he  will  not  respond. 

I  think  there  is  a  real  moral  principle 
involved.  I  believe  that  this  deep  instinct  for 
labor  in  and  about  the  soil  is  a  valid  one,  and 
that  the  gathering  together  of  people  in  cities 
has  been  at  the  cost  of  an  obscure  but  actual 
moral  shock. 

I  doubt  if  the  people  of  the  cities  can  ever 
be  at  rest  in  a  future  full  of  moral  searchings 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          205 

of  conscience  until  every  man  has  traced 
definitely  the  connection  of  the  work  he  is 
doing  with  the  maintenance  of  his  country's 
population.  Sometimes  those  vocations  whose 
connection  can  not  be  so  traced  will  be  recog 
nized  as  wicked  ones,  and  people  engaged  in 
them  will  feel  as  did  Jim — until  he  worked  out 
the  facts  in  the  relation  of  school-teaching  to 
the  feeding,  clothing  and  sheltering  of  the 
world.  Most  school-teaching  he  believed — cor 
rectly  or  incorrectly — has  very  little  to  do  with 
the  primary  task  of  the  human  race ;  but  as  far 
as  his  teaching  was  concerned,  even  he  be 
lieved  in  it.  If  by  teaching  school  he  could 
not  make  a  greater  contribution  to  the  produc 
tiveness  of  the  Woodruff  District  than  by 
working  in  the  fields,  he  would  go  back  to  the 
fields.  Whether  he  could  make  his  teaching 
thus  productive  or  not  was  the  very  fact  in 
issue  between  him  and  the  local  body  politic. 
These  are  some  of  the  waters  that  ran  under 
the  bridges  before  the  Fourth  of  July  picnic  at 
Eight-Mile  Grove.  Few  surface  indications 
there  were  of  any  change  in  the  little  commun 
ity  in  this  annual  gathering  of  friends  and 


206  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

neighbors.  Wilbur  Smythe  made  the  annual 
address,  and  was  in  rather  finer  fettle  than 
usual  as  he  paid  his  fervid  tribute  to  the  starry 
flag,  and  to  this  very  place  as  the  most  favored 
spot  in  the  best  country  of  the  greatest  state 
in  the  most  powerful,  intellectual,  freest  and 
most  progressive  nation  in  the  best  possible 
of  worlds.  Wilbur  was  going  strong.  Jim  Irwin 
read  the  Declaration  rather  well,  Jennie  Wood 
ruff  thought,  as  she  sat  on  the  platform  be 
tween  Deacon  Avery,  the  oldest  settler  in  the 
district,  and  Mrs.  Columbus  Brown,  the  sole 
local  representative  of  the  Daughters  of  the 
American  Revolution.  Colonel  Woodruff  pre 
sided  in  his  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic 
uniform. 

The  fresh  northwest  breeze  made  free  with 
the  oaks,  elms,  hickories  and  box-elders  of 
Eight-Mile  Grove,  and  the  waters  of  Pickerel 
Creek  glimmered  a  hundred  yards  away,  beyond 
the  flitting  figures  of  the  boys  who  preferred 
to  shoot  off  their  own  fire-crackers  and  tor 
pedoes  and  nigger-chasers,  rather  than  to 
listen  to  those  of  Wilbur  Smythe.  Still  farther 
off  could  be  heard  the  voice  of  a  lone  lemonade 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          207 

vender  as  he  advertised  ice-cold  lemonade, 
made  in,  the  shade,  with  a  brand-new  spade, 
by  an  old  maid,  as  a  guaranty  that  it  was  the 
blamedest,  coldest  lemonade  ever  sold.  And 
under  the  shadiest  trees  a  few  incorrigible 
Marthas  were  spreading  the  snowy  table 
cloths  on  which  would  soon  be  placed  the  boun 
tiful  repasts  stored  in  ponderous  wicker  bas 
kets  and  hampers.  It  was  a  lovely  day,  in  a 
lovely  spot — a  good  example  of  the  miniature 
forests  which  grew  naturally  from  time  im 
memorial  in  favored  locations  on  the  Iowa 
prairies — half  a  square  mile  of  woodland,  all 
about  which  the  green  corn-rows  stood  aslant 
in  the  cool  breeze,  "waist-high  and  laid  by." 

They  were  passing  down  the  rough  board 
steps  from  the  platform  after  the  exercises  had 
terminated  in  a  rousing  rendition  of  America, 
when  Jennie  Woodruff,  having  slipped  by 
everybody  else  to  reach  him,  tapped  Jim  Irwin 
on  the  arm.  He  looked  back  at  her  over  his 
shoulder  with  his  slow  gentle  smile. 

"Isn't  your  mother  here,  Jim?"  she  asked. 
'Tve  been  looking  all  over  the  crowd  and  can't 
see  her." 


208  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"She  isn't  here,"  answered  Jim.  "I  was  in 
hopes  that  when  she  broke  loose  and  went  to 
your  Christmas  dinner  she  would  stay  loose — 
but  she  went  home  and  settled  back  into  her 
rut." 

"Too  bad,"  said  Jennie.  "She'd  have  had  a 
nice  time  if  she  had  come." 

"Yes,"  said  Jim,  "I  believe  she  would." 

"I  want  help,"  said  Jennie.  "Our  hamper 
is  terribly  heavy.  Please!" 

It  was  rather  obvious  to  Mrs.  Bonner  that 
Jennie  was  throwing  herself  at  Jim's  head ;  but 
that  was  an  article  of  the  Bonner  family  creed 
since  the  decision  which  closed  the  hearing  at 
the  court-house.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the 
young  county  superintendent  found  tasks  which 
kept  the  schoolmaster  very  close  to  her  side.  He 
carried  the  hamper,  helped  Jennie  to  spread  the 
cloth  on  the  grass,  went  with  her  to  the  well 
for  water  and  cracked  ice  wherewith  to  cool  it. 
In  fact,  he  quite  cut  Wilbur  Smythe  out  when 
that  gentleman  made  ponderous  efforts  to  ob 
tain  a  share  of  the  favor  implied  in  these  per 
missions. 

"Sit  down,  Jim,"  said  Mrs.  Woodruff,  "you've 


She  tapped  Jim  Irwin  on  tlie  arm 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          209 

earned  a  bite  of  what  we've  got.  It's  good 
enough,  what  there  is  of  it,  and  there's  enough 
of  it,  such  as  it  is !" 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  Jim,  "but  I've  a  prior  en 
gagement." 

"Why,  Jim!"  protested  Jennie.  "I've  been 
counting  on  you.  Don't  desert  me !" 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,"  said  Jim,  "but  I  prom 
ised.  I'll  see  you  later." 

One  might  have  thought,  judging  by  the 
colonel's  quizzical  smile,  that  he  was  pleased  at 
Jennie's  loss  of  her  former  swain. 

"We'll  have  to  invite  Jim  longer  ahead  of 
time,"  said  he.  "He's  getting  to  be  in  demand." 

He  seemed  to  be  in  demand — a  fact  that  Jen 
nie  confirmed  by  observation  as  she  chatted 
with  Deacon  Avery,  Mrs.  Columbus  Brown  and 
her  husband,  and  the  Orator  of  the  Day,  at  the 
table  set  apart  for  the  guests  and  notables.  Jim 
received  a  dozen  invitations  as  he  passed  the 
groups  seated  on  the  grass — one  of  them  from 
Mrs.  Cornelius  Bonner,  who  saw  no  particular 
point  in  advertising  disgruntlement.  The  chil 
dren  ran  to  him  and  clung  to  his  hands ;  young 
girls  gave  him  sisterly  smiles  and  such  trifles 


210  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

as  chicken  drumsticks,  pieces  of  cake  and  like 
tidbits.  His  passage  to  the  numerous  group 
at  a  square  table  under  a  big  burr-oak  was 
quite  an  ovation — an  ovation  of  the  signifi 
cance  of  which  he  was  himself  quite  unaware. 
The  people  were  just  friendly,  that  was  all — 
to  his  mind. 

But  Jennie — the  daughter  of  a  politician  and 
a  promising  one  herself — Jennie  sensed  the 
fact  that  Jim  Irwin  had  won  something  from 
the  people  of  the  Woodruff  District  in  the  way 
of  deference.  Still  he  was  the  gangling,  Lin- 
colnian,  ill-dressed,  poverty-stricken  Jim  Irwin 
of  old,  but  Jennie  had  no  longer  the  feeling 
that  one's  standing  was  somewhat  compro 
mised  by  association  with  him.  He  had  begun 
to  put  on  something  more  significant  than 
clothes,  something  which  he  had  possessed  all 
the  time,  but  which  became  valid  only  as  it  was 
publicly  apprehended.  There  was  a  slight  air 
of  command  in  his  down-sitting  and  up-rising 
at  the  picnic.  He  was  clearly  the  central  fig 
ure  of  his  group,  in  which  she  recognized  the 
Bronsons,  those  queer  children  from  Tennes- 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          211 

see,  the  Simmses,  the  Talcotts,  the  Hansens, 
the  Hamms  and  Colonel  Woodruff's  hired  man, 
Pete,  whose  other  name  is  not  recorded. 

Jim  sat  down  between  Bettina  Hansen,  a 
flaxen-haired  young  Brunhilde  of  seventeen, 
and  Calista  Simms — Jennie  saw  him  do  it, 
while  listening  to  Wilbur  Smythe's  account  of 
the  exacting  nature  of  the  big  law  practise  he 
was  building  up, — and  would  have  been  glad  to 
exchange  places  with  Calista  or  Bettina. 

The  repast  drew  to  a  close ;  and  over  by  the 
burr-oak  the  crowd  had  grown  to  a  circle  sur 
rounding  Jim  Irwin. 

"He  seems  to  be  making  an  address,"  said 
Wilbur  Smythe. 

"Well,  Wilbur,"  replied  the  colonel,  "you  had 
the  first  shot  at  us.  Suppose  we  move  over 
and  see  what's  under  discussion." 

As  they  approached  the  group,  they  heard 
Jim  Irwin  answering  something  which  Ezra 
Bronson  had  said. 

"You  think  so,  Ezra,"  said  he,  "and  it  seems 
reasonable  that  big  creameries  like  those  at 
Omaha,  Sioux  City,  Des  Moines  and  the  other 


212  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

centralizer  points  can  make  butter  cheaper 
than  we  would  do  here — but  we've  the  figures 
that  show  that  they  aren't  economical." 

"They  can't  make  good  butter,  for  one 
thing,"  said  Newton  Bronson  cockily. 

"Why  can't  they?"  asked  Olaf  Hansen,  the 
father  of  Bettina. 

"Well,"  said  Newton,  "they  have  to  have  so 
much  cream  that  they've  got  to  ship  it  so  far 
that  it  gets  rotten  on  the  way,  and  they  have 
to  renovate  it  with  lime  and  other  ingredients 
before  they  can  churn  it." 

"Well,"  said  Raymond  Simms,  "I  reckon  they 
sell  their  butter  f  o'  all  it's  wuth ;  an'  they  cain't 
get  within  from  foah  to  seven  cents,  a  pound 
as  much  fo'  it  as  the  farmers'  creameries  in 
Wisconsin  and  Minnesota  get  fo'  theirs." 

"That's  a  fact,  Olaf,"  said  Jim. 

"How  do  you  kids  know  so  darned  much 
about  it?"  queried  Pete. 

"Huh!"  sniffed  Bettina.  "We've  been  read 
ing  about  it,  and  writing  letters  about  it,  and 
figuring  percentages  on  it  in  school  all  winter. 
We've  done  arithmetic  and  geography  and 
grammar  and  1  don't  know  what  else  on  it." 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          213 

"Well,  I'm  agin'  any  schoolin',"  said  Pete, 
"that  makes  kids  smarter  in  f  armin'  than  their 
parents  and  their  parents'  hired  men.  Gi'  me 
another  swig  o'  that  lemonade,  Jim!" 

"You  see,"  said  Jim  to  his  audience,  mean 
while  pouring  the  lemonade,  "the  centralizer 
creamery  is  uneconomic  in  several  ways.  It 
has  to  pay  excessive  transportation  charges. 
It  has  to  pay  excessive  commissions  to  its  cream 
buyers.  It  has  to  accept  cream  without  proper 
inspection,  and  mixes  the  good  with  the  bad. 
It  makes  such  long  shipments  that  the  cream 
spoils  in  transit  and  lowers  the  quality  of  the 
butter.  It  can't  make  the  best  use  of  the  but 
termilk.  All  these  losses  and  leaks  the  farm 
ers  have  to  stand.  I  can  prove — and  so  can 
the  six  or  eight  pupils  in  the  Woodruff  school 
who  have  been  working  on  the  cream  question 
this  winter — that  we  could  make  at  least  six 
cents  a  pound  on  our  butter  if  we  had  a  co 
operative  creamery  and  all  sent  our  cream 
to  it." 

"Well,"  said  Ezra  Bronson,  "let's  start 
one." 

"I'll  «o  in."  said  Olaf  Hansen. 


214  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Me,  too,"  said  Con  Bonner. 

There  was  a  general  chorus  of  assent.  Jim 
had  convinced  his  audience. 

"He's  got  the  jury,"  said  Wilbur  Smythe  to 
Colonel  Woodruff. 

"Yes,"  said  the  colonel,  "and  right  here  is 
where  he  runs  into  danger.  Can  he  handle  the 
crowd  when  it's  with  him?" 

"Well,"  said  Jim,  "I  think  we  ought  to  or 
ganize  one,  but  I've  another  proposition  first. 
Let's  get  together  and  pool  our  cream.  By 
that,  I  mean  that  we'll  all  sell  to  the  same 
creamery,  and  get  the  best  we  can  out  of  the 
centralizers  by  the  cooperative  method.  We 
can  save  two  cents  a  pound  in  that  way,  and 
we'll  learn  to  cooperate.  When  we  have  found 
just  how  well  we  can  hang  together,  we'll  be 
able  to  take  up  the  cooperative  creamery,  with 
less  danger  of  falling  apart  and  failing." 

"Who'll    handle    the  pool?"    inquired    Mr. 
Hansen. 

"We'll  handle  it  in  the  school,"  answered 
Jim. 

"School's  about  done,"  objected  Mr.  Bronson, 

"Won't  the  cream  pool  pretty  near  pay  the 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          215 

expenses  of  running  the  school  all  summer?" 
asked  Bonner. 

"We  ought  to  run  the  school  plant  all  the 
time,"  said  Jim.  "It's  the  only  way  to  get  full 
value  out  of  the  investment.  And  we've  corn- 
club  work,  pig-club  work,  poultry  work  and 
canning-club  work  which  make  it  very  desira 
ble  to  keep  in  session  with  only  a  week's  vaca 
tion.  If  you'll  add  the  cream  pool,  it  will  make 
the  school  the  hardest  working  crowd  in  the  dis 
trict  and  doing  actual  farm  work,  too.  I  like 
Mr.  Bonner's  suggestion." 

"Well,"  said  Haakon  Peterson,  who  had 
joined  the  group,  "Ay  tank  we  better  have  a 
meeting  of  the  board  and  discuss  it." 

"Well,  darn  it,"  said  Columbus  Brown,  "I 
want  in  on  this  cream  pool — and  I  live  outside 
the  district!" 

"We'll  let  you  in,  dumb,"  said  the  colonel. 

"Sure!"  said  Pete.  "We  hain't  no  more 
sense  than  to  let  any  one  in,  Clumb.  Come  in, 
the  water's  fine.  We  ain't  proud!" 

"Well,"  said  Clumb,  "if  this  feller  is  goin' 
to  do  school  work  of  this  kind,  I  want  in  the 
district,  too." 


216  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"We'll  come  to  that  one  of  these  days,"  said 
Jim.  "The  district  is  too  small." 

Wilbur  Smythe's  car  stopped  at  the  distant 
gate  and  honked  for  him — a  signal  which  broke 
up  the  party.  Haakon  Peterson  passed  the 
word  to  the  colonel  and  Mr.  Bronson  for  a 
board  meeting  the  next  evening.  The  picnic 
broke  up  in  a  dispersion  of  staid  married  cou 
ples  to  their  homes,  and  young  folks  in  top 
buggies  to  dances  and  displays  of  fireworks  in 
the  surrounding  villages.  Jim  walked  across 
the  fields  to  his  home — neither  old  nor  young, 
having  neither  sweetheart  with  whom  to  dance 
nor  farm  to  demand  labor  in  its  inexorable 
chores.  He  turned  after  crawling  through  a 
wire  fence  and  looked  longingly  at  Jennie  as 
she  was  suavely  assisted  into  the  car  by  the 
frock-coated  lawyer. 

"You  saw  what  he  did?"  said  the  colonel  in 
terrogatively,  as  he  and  his  daughter  sat  on 
the  Woodruff  veranda  that  evening.  "Who 
taught  him  the  supreme  wisdom  of  holding 
back  his  troops  when  they  grew  too  wild  for 
attack?" 

"He  may  lose  them,"  said  Jennie. 


THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH          217 

"Not  so,"  said  the  colonel.  "Individuals  of 
the  Brown  Mouse  type  always  succeed  when 
they  find  their  environment.  And  I  believe 
Jim  has  found  his." 

"Well,"  said  Jennie,  "I  wish  his  environ 
ment  would  find  him  some  clothes.  It's  a 
shame  the  way  he  has  to  go  looking.  He'd  be 
nice-appearing  if  he  was  dressed  anyway." 

"Would  he?"  queried  the  colonel.  "I  wonder,, 
now!  Well,  Jennie,  as  his  oldest  friend  hav 
ing  any  knowledge  of  clothes,  I  think  it's  up 
to  you  to  act  as  a  committee  of  one  on  Jim's 
apparel." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER 

A  SUDDEN  July  storm  had  drenched  the 
fields  and  filled  the  swales  with  water. 
The  cultivators  left  the  corn-fields  until  the 
next  day's  sun  and  a  night  of  seepage  might 
once  more  fit  the  black  soil  for  tillage.  The 
little  boys  rolled  up  their  trousers  and  tramped 
home  from  school  with  the  rich  mud  squeezing 
up  between  their  toes,  thrilling  with  the  elec 
tricity  of  clean-washed  nature,  and  the  little 
girls  rather  wished  they  could  go  barefooted, 
too,  as,  indeed,  some  of  the  more  sensible  did. 

A  lithe  young  man  with  climbers  on  his  legs, 
walked  up  a  telephone  pole  by  the  roadside  to 
make  some  repairs'  to  the  wires,  which  had  been 
whipped  into  a  "cross"  by  the  wind  of  the  storm 
and  the  lashing  of  the  limbs  of  the  roadside 
trees.  He  had  tied  his  horse  to  a  post  up  the 
road,  and  was  running  out  the  trouble  on  the 
218 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  219 

line,  which  was  plentifully  in  evidence  just 
then.  Wind  and  lightning  had  played  hob  with 
the  system,  and  the  line  repairer  was  cheer 
fully  profane,  in  the  manner  of  his  sort,  glad 
by  reason  of  the  fire  of  summer  in  his  veins, 
and  incensed  at  the  forces  of  nature  which  had 
brought  him  out  through  the  mud  to  the  Wood 
ruff  District  to  do  these  piffling  jobs  that  any 
of  the  subscribers  ought  to  have  known  how 
to  do  themselves,  and  none  of  which  took  more 
than  a  few  minutes  of  his  time  when  he  reached 
the  seat  of  the  difficulty. 

Jim  Irwin,  his  school  out  for  the  day,  came 
along  the  muddy  road  with  two  of  his  pupils, 
a  bare-legged  little  boy  and  a  tall  girl  with 
flaxen  hair — Bettina  Hansen  and  her  small 
brother  Hans,  who  refused  to  answer  to  any 
name  other  than  Hans  Nilsen.  His  father's 
name  was  Nils  Hansen,  and  Hans,  a  born  con 
servative,  being  the  son  of  Nils,  regarded  him 
self  as  rightfully  a  Nilsen,  and  disliked  the 
"Hans  Hansen"  on  the  school  register.  Thus 
do  European  customs  sometimes  survive  among 
us. 

Hans  strode  through  the  pool  of  water  which 


220  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  shower  had  spread  completely  over  the  low 
turnpike  a  few  rods  from  the  pole  on  which 
the  trouble  shooter  was  at  work,  and  the  elec 
trician  ceased  his  labors  and  rested  himself  on 
a  cross-arm  while  he  waited  to  see  what  the 
flaxen-haired  girl  would  do  when  she  came  to  it. 

Jim  and  Bettina  stopped  at  the  water's  edge. 
"Oh!"  cried  she,  "I  can't  get  through!"  The 
trouble  shooter  felt  the  impulse  to  offer  his 
aid,  but  thought  it  best  on  the  whole,  to  leave 
the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  lank  school 
master. 

"I'll  carry  you  across,"  said  Jim. 

"I'm  too  heavy,"  answered  Bettina. 

"Nonsense!"  said  Jim. 

"She's  awful  heavy,"  piped  Hans.  "Better 
take  off  your  shoes,  anyhow!" 

Jim  thought  of  the  welfare  of  his  only  good 
trousers,  and  saw  that  Hans'  suggestion  was 
good;  but  a  mental  picture  of  himself  with 
shoes  in  hand  and  bare  legs  restrained  him. 
He  took  Bettina  in  his  arms  and  went  slowly 
across,  walking  rather  farther  with  his  blush 
ing  burden  than  was  strictly  necessary.  Bet 
tina  was  undoubtedly  heavy;  but  she  was  also 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  221 

wonderfully  pleasant  to  feel  in  arms  which  had 
never  borne  such  a  burden  before;  and  her 
arms  about  his  neck  as  he  slopped  through  the 
pond  were  curiously  thrilling.  Her  cheek 
brushed  his  as  he  set  her  upon  her  feet  and 
felt,  rather  than  thought,  that  if  there  had  only 
been  a  good  reason  for  it,  Bettina  would  have 
willingly  been  carried  much  farther. 

"How  strong  you  are!"  she  panted.  *Tm 
awful  heavy,  ain't  I?" 

"Not  very,"  said  Jim,  with  scholastic  ac 
curacy.  "You're  just  right.  I — I  mean, 
you're  simply  well-nourished  and  wholesomely 
plump !" 

Bettina  blushed  still  more  rosily. 

"You've  ruined  your  clothes,"  said  she. 
"Now  you'll  have  to  come  home  with  me  and 
let  me — see  who's  there!" 

Jim  looked  up  at  the  trouble  shooter,  and 
went  over  to  the  foot  of  the  pole.  The  man 
walked  down,  striking  his  spurs  deep  into  the 
wood  for  safety. 

"Hello!"  said  he.    "School  out?" 

"For  the  day,"  said  Jim.  "Any  important 
work  on  the  telephone  line  now?" 


222  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Just  trouble-shooting,"  was  the  answer.  "I 
have  to  spend  three  hours  hunting  these  trou 
bles,  to  one  in  fixing  'em  up." 

"Do  they  take  much  technical  skill?"  asked 
Jim. 

"Mostly  shakin'  out  crosses,  and  puttin'  in 
new  carbons  in  the  arresters,"  replied  the 
trouble  man.  "Any  one  ought  to  do  any  of  'em 
with  five  minutes'  instruction.  But  these 
farmers — they'd  rather  have  me  drive  ten 
miles  to  take  a  hair-pin  from  across  the  bind 
ing-posts  than  to  do  it  themselves.  That's  the 
way  they  are!" 

"Will  you  be  out  here  to-morrow?"  queried 
the  teacher. 

"Sure!" 

"I'd  like  to  have  you  show  my  class  in  man 
ual  training  something  about  the  telephone," 
said  Jim.  "The  reason  we  can't  fix  our  own 
troubles,  if  they  are  as  simple  as  you  say,  is 
because  we  don't  know  how  simple  they  are." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Professor,"  said 
the  trouble  man.  "I'll  bring  a  phone  with  me 
and  give  'em  a  lecture.  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
employ  the  company's  time  any  better  than  in 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  223 

beating  a  little  telephone  sense  into  the  heads 
of  the  community.  Set  the  time,  and  I'll  be 
there  with  bells." 

Bettina  and  her  teacher  walked  on  up  the 
shady  lane,  feeling  that  they  had  a  secret. 
They  were  very  nearly  on  a  parity  as  to  the 
innocence  of  soul  with  which  they  held  this 
secret,  except  that  Bettina  was  much  more 
single-minded  toward  it  than  Jim.  To  her  he 
had  been  gradually  attaining  the  status  of  a 
hero  whose  clasp  of  her  in  that  iron-armed  way 
was  mysteriously  blissful — and  beyond  that 
her  mind  had  not  gone.  To  Jim,  Bettina  rep 
resented  in  a  very  sweet  way  the  disturbing  in 
fluences  which  had  recently  risen  to  the  thresh 
old  of  consciousness  in  his  being,  and  which 
were  concretely  but  not  very  hopefully  em 
bodied  in  Jennie  Woodruff. 

Thus  interested  in  each  other,  they  turned 
the  corner  which  took  them  out  of  sight  of  the 
lineman,  and  stopped  at  the  shady  avenue  lead 
ing  up  to  Nils  Hansen's  farmstead.  Little 
Hans  Nilsen  had  disappeared  by  the  simple 
method  of  cutting  across  lots.  Bettina's  girl 
ish  instinct  called  for  something  more  than  the 


224  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

casual  good-by  which  would  have  sufficed  yes 
terday.  She  lingered,  standing  close  by  Jim 
Irwin. 

"Won't  you  come  in  and  let  me  clean  the 
mud  off  you,"  she  asked,  "and  give  you  some 
dry  socks?" 

"Oh,  no!"  replied  Jim.  "It's  almost  as  far 
to  your  house  as  it  is  home.  Thank  you,  no." 

"There's  a  splash  of  mud  on  your  face,"  said 
Bettina.  "Let  me—"  And  with  her  little 
handkerchief  she  began  wiping  off  the  mud. 
Jim  stooped  to  permit  the  attention,  but  not 
much,  for  Bettina  was  of  the  mold  of  women 
of  whom  warriors  are  born — their  faces  ap 
proached,  and  Jim  recognized  a  crisis  in  the 
fact  that  Bettina's  mouth  was  presented  for  a 
kiss.  Jim  met  the  occasion  like  the  gentleman 
he  was.  He  did  not  leave  her  stung  by  rejec 
tion  ;  neither  did  he  obey  the  impulse  to  respond 
to  the  invitation  according  to  his  man's  in 
stinct  ;  he  took  the  rosy  face  between  his  palms 
and  kissed  her  forehead — and  left  her  in  pos 
session  of  her  self-respect.  After  that  Bettina 
Hansen  felt,  somehow,  that  the  world  could 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  225 

not  possibly  contain  another  man  like  Jim  Ir- 
win — a  conviction  which  she  still  cherishes 
when  that  respectful  caress  has  been  swept 
into  the  cloudy  distance  of  a  woman's  memo 
ries. 

Pete,  Colonel  Woodruff's  hired  man,  was 
watering  the  horses  at  the  trough  when  the 
trouble  shooter  reached  the  Woodruff  tele 
phone.  County  Superintendent  Jennie  had  run 
for  her  father's  home  in  her  little  motor-car 
in  the  face  of  the  shower,  and  was  now  on  the 
bench  where  once  she  had  said  "Humph!"  to 
Jim  Irwin — and  thereby  started  in  motion  the 
factors  in  this  story. 

"Anything  wrong  with  your  phone?"  asked 
the  trouble  man  of  Pete. 

"Nah,"  replied  Pete.  "It  was  on  the  blink 
till  you  done  something  down  the  road." 

"Crossed  up,"  said  the  lineman.  "These 
trees  along  here  are  something  fierce." 

"I'd  cut  'em  all  if  they  was  mine,"  said  Pete, 
"but  the  colonel  set  'em  out,  along  about  sixty- 
six,  and  I  reckon  they'll  have  to  go  on 
a-growinV 


226  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Who's  your  school-teacher?"  asked  the  tele 
phone  man. 

The  county  superintendent  pricked  up  her 
ears — being  quite  properly  interested  in  mat 
ters  educational. 

"Feller  name  of  Irwin,"  said  Pete. 

"Not  much  of  a  looker,"  said  the  trouble 
shooter. 

"Nater  of  the  sile,"  said  Pete.  "He  an'  I 
both  worked  in  it  together  till  it  roughened  up 
our  complexions." 

"Farmer,  eh?"  said  the  lineman  interroga 
tively.  "Well,  he's  the  first  farmer  I  ever  saw 
in  my  life  that  recognized  there's  education  in 
the  telephone  business.  I'm  goin'  to  teach 
a  class  in  telephony  at  the  schoolhouse  to 
morrow." 

"Don't  get  swelled  up,"  said  Pete.  "He  has 
everybody  tell  them  young  ones  about  every 
thing — blacksmith,  cabinet-maker,  pie-founder, 
cookie-cooper,  dressmaker — even  down  to  tele 
phones.  He'll  have  them  scholars  figurin'  on 
telephones,  and  writin'  compositions  on  'em, 
and  learnin'  'lectricity  from  'em  an'  things  like 
that" 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  227 

"He  must  be  some  feller,"  said  the  lineman. 
"And  who's  his  star  pupil?" 

"Didn't  know  he  had  one,"  said  Pete. 
"Why?" 

"Girl,"  said  the  trouble  shooter.  "Goes  to 
school  from  the  farm  where  the  Western  Union 
brace  is  used  at  the  road." 

"Nils  Hansen's  girl?"  asked  Pete. 

"Toppy  little  filly,"  said  the  lineman,  "with 
silver  mane — looks  like  she'd  pull  a  good  load 
and  step  some." 

"M'h'm,"  grunted  Pete.  "Bettina  Hansen. 
Looks  well  enough.  What  about  her?" 

Again  the  county  superintendent,  seated  on 
the  bench,  pricked  up  her  ears  that  she  might 
learn,  mayhap,  something  of  educational  in 
terest. 

"I  never  wanted  to  be  a  school-teacher  as 
bad,"  continued  the  shooter  of  trouble,  "as  I 
did  when  this  farmer  got  to  the  low  place  in 
the  road  with  the  fair  Bettina  this  afternoon 
when  they  was  comin'  home  from  school.  The 
water  was  all  over  the  road " 

"Then  I  win  a  smoke  from  the  roadmaster," 
said  Pete.  "I  bet  him  it  would  overflow." 


228  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Well,  if  I  was  in  the  professor's  place,  I'd 
be  glad  to  pay  the  bet,"  said  the  worldly  line 
man.  "And  I'll  say  this  for  him,  he  rose  equal 
to  the  emergency  and  caved  the  emergency's 
head  in.  He  carried  her  across  the  pond,  and 
her  a-clingin'  to  his  neck  in  a  way  to  make 
your  mouth  water.  She  wasn't  a  bit  mad  about 
it,  either." 

"I'd  rather  have  a  good  cigar  any  ol'  time,' 
said  Pete.  "Nothin'  but  a  yaller-haired  kid 
— an'  a  Dane  at  that.  I  had  a  dame  once  up 
at  Spirit  Lake " 

"Well,  I  must  be  drivin'  on,"  said  the  line 
man.  "Got  to  get  up  a  lecture  for  Professor 
Irwin  to-morrow — and  maybe  I'll  be  able  to 
meet  that  yaller-haired  kid.  So  long!" 

The  county  superintendent  recognized  at 
once  the  educational  importance  of  the  matter, 
when  one  of  her  country  teachers  adopted  the 
policy  of  calling  in  everybody  available  who 
could  teach  the  pupils  anything  special,  and 
converting  the  school  into  a  local  Chautauqua 
served  by  local  lecturers.  She  made  a  run  of  ten 
miles  to  hear  the  trouble  shooter's  lecture.  She 
saw  the  boys  and  some  of  the  girls  give  an  ex- 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  229 

planation  of  the  telephone  and  the  use  of  it. 
She  heard  the  teacher  give  as  a  language  exer 
cise  the  next  day  an  essay  on  the  ethics  and 
proprieties  of  eavesdropping  on  party  lines; 
and  she  saw  the  beginning  of  an  arrangement 
under  which  the  boys  of  the  Woodruff  school 
took  the  contract  to  look  after  easily-remedied 
line  troubles  in  the  neighborhood  on  the  basis 
which  paid  for  a  telephone  for  the  school,  and 
swelled  slightly  the  fund  which  Jim  was  ac 
cumulating  for  general  purposes.  Incidentally, 
she  saw  how  really  educational  was  the  work 
of  the  day,  and  that  to  which  it  led. 

She  had  no  curiosity  to  which  she  would 
have  confessed,  about  the  relations  between 
Jim  Irwin  and  his  "star  pupil,"  that  young 
Brunhilde — Bettina  Hansen;  but  her  official 
duty  required  her  to  observe  the  attitude  of 
pupils  to  teachers  —  Bettina  among  them. 
Clearly,  Jim  was  looked  upon  by  the  girls, 
large  and  small,  as  a  possession  of  theirs.  They 
competed  for  the  task  of  keeping  his  desk  in 
order,  and  of  dusting  and  tidying  up  the  school 
room.  There  was  something  of  exaltation  of 
sentiment  in  this.  Bettina's  eyes  followed  him 


230  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

about  the  room  in  a  devotional  sort  of  way; 
but  so,  too,  did  those  of  the  ten-year-olds.  He 
was  loved,  that  was  clear,  by  Bettina,  Calista 
Simms  and  all  the  rest — an  excellent  thing  in 
a  school. 

All  the  same,  Jennie  met  Jim  rather  oftener 
after  the  curious  conversation  between  those 
rather  low  fellows,  Pete  and  the  trouble 
shooter.  As  autumn  approached,  and  the  time 
came  for  Jim  to  begin  to  think  of  his  trip  to 
Ames,  Colonel  Woodruffs  hint  that  she  should 
assume  charge  of  the  problem  of  Jim's  clothes 
for  the  occasion,  came  more  and  more  often  to 
her  mind.  Would  Jim  be  able  to  buy  suitable 
clothes?  Would  he  understand  that  he  ought 
not  to  appear  in  the  costume  which  was  toler 
able  in  the  Woodruff  District  only  because  the 
people  there  were  accustomed  to  seeing  him 
dressed  like  a  tramp?  Could  she  approach  the 
subject  with  any  degree  of  safety?  Really 
these  were  delicate  questions;  and  considering 
the  fact  that  Jennie  had  quite  dismissed  her 
old  sweetheart  from  the  list  of  eligibles — had 
never  actually  admitted  him  to  it,  in  fact — 
they  assumed  great  importance  to  her  mind. 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  231 

Once,  only  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago,  she 
had  scoffed  at  Jim's  mention  of  the  fact  that 
he  might  think  of  marrying ;  and  now  she  could 
not  think  of  saying  to  him  kindly,  "Jim,  you 
really  must  have  some  better  clothes  to  wear 
when  you  go  to  Ames!"  It  would  have  been 
far  easier  last  summer. 

Somehow,  Jim  had  been  acquiring  dignity 
and  unapproachability.  She  must  sidle  up  to 
the  subject.  She  did.  She  took  him  into  her 
runabout  one  day  as  he  was  striding  toward 
town  in  that  plowed-ground  manner  of  his,  and 
gave  him  a  spin  over  to  the  fair  grounds  and 
two  or  three  times  around  the  half-mile  track. 

"I'm  going  to  Ames  to  hear  your  speech," 
said  she. 

"I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Jim.  "More  of  the 
farmers  are  going  from  this  neighborhood  than 
ever  before.  I'll  feel  at  home,  if  they  all  sit 
together  where  I  can  talk  at  them." 

"Who's  going?"  asked  Jennie. 

"The  Bronsons,  Con  Bonner  and  Nils  Han- 
sen  and  Bettina,"  replied  Jim.  "That's  all 
from  our  district — and  Columbus  Brown  and 
probably  others  from  near-by  localities." 


232  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"I  shall  have  to  have  some  clothes,"  said 
Jennie. 

Jim  failed  to  respond  to  this,  as  clearly  out 
of  his  field.  They  were  passing  the  county  fair 
buildings,  and  he  began  expatiating  on  the 
kind  of  county  fair  he  would  have — a  great 
county  exposition  with  the  schools  as  its  cen 
tral  thought — a  clearing  house  for  the  rural 
activities  of  all  the  country  schools. 

"And  pa's  going  to  have  a  suit  before  we 
go,  too,"  said  Jennie.  "Here  are  some  sam 
ples  I  got  of  Atkins,  the  tailor.  Which  would 
be  the  most  becoming  do  you  think  ?" 

Jim  looked  the  samples  over  carefully,  but 
had  little  to  say  as  to  their  adaptation  to 
Colonel  Woodruff's  sartorial  needs.  Jennie 
laid  great  stress  on  the  excellent  quality  of  one 
or  two  samples,  and  carefully  specified  the 
prices  of  them.  Jim  exhibited  no  more  than 
a  languid  and  polite  interest,  and  gave  not  the 
slightest  symptom  of  ever  having  considered 
even  remotely  the  contingency  of  having  a 
tailor-made  suit.  Jennie  sidled  closer  to  the 
subject. 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  awfully  hard  for 


A  TROUBLE  SHOOTER  233 

you  to  get  fitted  in  the  stores,"  said  she,  "you 
are  so  very  tall." 

"It  would  be,"  said  Jim,  "if  I  had  ever  con 
sidered  the  matter  of  looks  very  much.  I  guess 
I'm  not  constructed  on  any  plan  the  clothing 
manufacturers  have  regarded  as  even  remotely 
possible.  How  about  this  county  fair  idea? 
Couldn't  we  do  this  next  fall?  You  organize 
the  teachers " 

Jennie  advanced  the  spark,  cut  out  the  muf^ 
fler  and  drowned  the  rest  of  Jim's  remarks  in 
wind  and  dust. 

"I  give  it  up,  da<3,"  said  she  to  her  father 
that  evening. 

"What?"  queried  the  colonel. 

"Jim  Irwin's  clothes,"  she  replied.  "I  think 
he'll  go  to  Ames  in  a  disgraceful  plight,  but  I 
can't  get  any  closer  to  the  subject  than  I  have 
done." 

"Oh,  then  you  haven't  heard  the  news,"  said 
the  colonel.  "Jim's  going  to  have  his  first 
made-to-measure  suit  for  Ames.  It's  all  fixed." 

"Who's  making  it?"  asked  Jennie. 

"Gustaf  Paulsen,  the  Dane  that's  just  opened 
&  shop  in  town." 


234  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"A  Dane?"  queried  Jennie.  "Isn't  he  re 
lated  to  some  of  the  neighbors?" 

"A  brother  to  Mrs.  Hansen,"  answered  the 
colonel. 

"Bettina's  uncle!" 

"Ratherly,"  said  the  colonel  jocularly,  "see 
ing  as  how  Bettina's  Mrs.  Hansen's  daughter." 

Clothes  are  rather  important,  but  the  dif 
ference  between  a  suit  made  by  Atkins  the 
tailor,  and  one  built  by  Gustaf  Paulsen,  the 
new  Danish  craftsman,  could  not  be  supposed 
to  be  crucially  important,  even  when  designed 
for  a  very  dear  friend.  And  Jim  was  scarcely 
that— of  course  not!  Why,  then,  did  the 
county  superintendent  hastily  run  to  her  room, 
and  cry?  Why  did  she  say  to  herself  that  the 
Hansens  were  very  good  people,  and  well-to-do, 
and  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  Jim  and  his 
mother, — and  then  cry  some  more?  Colonel 
failed  to  notice  Jennie's  unceremonious  retire 
ment  from  circulation  that  evening,  and  had  he 
known  all  about  what  took  place,  he  would 
have  been  as  mystified  as  you  or  I. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

JIM  GOES  TO  AMES 

boat  tipped  over,  and  Jim  Irwin  was 
left  struggling  in  the  water.  It  was  in  the 
rapids  just  above  the  cataract — and  poor  Jim 
could  not  swim  a  stroke.  Helpless,  terrified, 
gasping,  he  floated  to  destruction,  and  Jennie 
Woodruff  was  not  able  to  lift  a  hand  to  help 
him.  To  see  any  human  being  swept  to  such 
an  end  is  dreadful,  but  for  a  county  superin 
tendent  to  witness  the  drowning  of  one  of  her 
best — though  sometimes  it  must  be  confessed 
most  insubordinate — teachers,  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  is  unspeakable;  and  when  that 
teacher  is  a  young  man  who  was  once  that 
county  superintendent's  sweetheart,  and  falls 
in,  clothed  in  a  new  made-to-order  suit  in 
which  he  looks  almost  handsome  despite  his 
manifest  discomfort  in  his  new  cravat  and 
starched  collar,  the  experience  is  something  al- 
235 


236  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

most  impossible  to  endure.  That  is  why  Jen 
nie  gripped  her  seat  until  she  must  have 
scratched  the  varnish.  That  is  why  she  felt 
she  must  go  to  him — and  do  something.  She 
could  not  endure  it  a  moment  longer,  she  felt; 
and  there  he  floated  away,  his  poor  pale  face 
dipping  below  the  waves,  his  sad,  long,  homely 
countenance  sadder  than  ever,  his  lovely — yes, 
she  must  confess  it  now,  his  eyes  were  lovely! 
— his  lovely  blue  eyes,  so  honest  and  true,  wide 
with  terror;  and  she  unable  to  give  him  so 
much  as  a  cry  of  encouragement! 

And  then  Jim  began  to  swim.  He  cast  aside 
the  roll  of  manuscript  which  he  had  held  in 
his  hand  when  the  waters  began  to  rise  about 
him,  and  struck  out  for  the  shore  with  strong 
strokes — wild  and  agitated  at  first,  but  grad 
ually  becoming  controlled  and  coordinated,  and 
Jennie  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  finally  came 
to  shore,  breasting  the  waves  like  Triton,  and 
master  of  the  element  in  which  he  moved. 
There  was  a  burst  of  applause,  and  people  went 
forward  to  congratulate  the  greenhorn  who 
had  really  made  good. 

Jennie  felt  like  throwing  her  arms  about 


'I'm  glad  to  meet  you' 


JIM  GOES  TO  AMES  237 

his  neck  and  weeping  out  her  joy  at  his  es 
cape,  and  his  restoration  to  her.  Her  eyes  told 
him  something  of  this;  for  there  was  a  look 
in  them  which  reminded  him  of  fifteen  years 
ago.  Bettina  Hansen  was  proud  of  him,  and 
Con  Bonner  shook  his  hand  and  said  that  he 
agreed  with  him.  Neither  Bettina  nor  Con  had 
noticed  the  capsizing  of  the  boat  or  saw  the 
form  of  Jim  as  it  went  drifting  toward  the 
cataract.  But  Jim  knew  how  near  he  had  been 
to  disaster,  and  knew  that  Jennie  knew.  For 
she  had  seen  him  turn  pale  when  he  came  on 
the  platform  to  make  his  address  at  the  farm 
ers'  meeting  at  Ames,  had  seen  him  begin  the 
speech  he  had  committed  to  memory,  had  ob 
served  how  unable  he  was  to  remember  it,  had 
noted  his  confusion  as  he  tried  to  find  his  man 
uscript,  and  then  his  place  of  beginning  in  it 
— and  when  his  confusion  had  seemingly  quite 
overcome  him,  had  seen  him  begin  talking  to 
his  audience  just  as  he  had  talked  to  the  po 
litical  meeting  that  time  when  he  had  so  deeply 
offended  her,  and  had  observed  how  he  won 
first  their  respect,  then  their  attention,  then 
apparently  their  convictions. 


238  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

To  Jennie's  agitated  mind  Jim  had  barely 
escaped  being  drowned  in  the  ocean  of  his  own 
unreadiness  and  confusion  under  trying  condi 
tions.  And  she  was  right.  Jim  had  never  felt 
more  the  upstart  uneducated  farm-hand  than 
when  he  was  introduced  to  that  audience  by 
Professor  Withers,  nor  more  completely  dis 
graced  than  when  he  concluded  his  remarks. 
Even  the  applause  was  to  him  a  kindly  effort 
on  the  part  of  the  audience  to  comfort  him  in 
his  failure.  His  only  solace  was  the  look  in 
Jennie's  eyes. 

"Young  man,"  said  an  old  farmer  who  wore 
thick  glasses  and  looked  like  a  Dutch  burgo 
master,  "I  want  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you." 

"This  is  Mr.  Hof myer  of  Pottawatomie  Coun 
ty,"  said  the  dean  of  the  college. 

"I'm  glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Jim.  "I  can 
talk  to  you  now." 

"No,"  said  Jennie.  "I  know  Mr.  Hofmyer 
will  excuse  you  until  after  dinner.  We  have 
a  little  party  for  Mr.  Irwin,  and  we  shall  be 
late  if  we  don't  hurry." 

"Where  can  I  see  you  after  $iu>per?"  asked 
Mr.  Hofmyer. 


JIM  GOES  TO  AMES  239 

Easy  it  was  to  satisfy  Mr.  Hof myer ;  and  Jim 
was  carried  off  to  a  dinner  given  by  County 
Superintendent  Jennie  to  Jim,  the  dean,  Profes 
sor  Withers,  and  one  or  two  others — and  a  won 
derfully  select  and  distinguished  company  it 
seemed  to  Jim.  Jennie  seized  a  moment's  op 
portunity  to  say,  "You  did  beautifully,  Jim; 
everybody  says  so." 

"I  failed!"  said.  Jim.  "You  know  I  failed. 
I  couldn't  remember  my  speech.  I  can't  stay 
here  feasting.  I  want  to  get  out  in  the  snow." 

"You  made  the  best  address  of  the  meeting; 
and  you  did  it  because  you  forgot  your  speech," 
insisted  Jennie. 

"Does  anybody  else  think  so?" 

"Why,  Jim!  You  must  learn  to  believe  in 
what  you  have  done.  Even  Con  Bonner  says 
it  was  the  best.  He  says  he  didn't  think  you 
had  it  in  ye!" 

This  advice  from  her  to  "believe  in  what  you 
have  done," — wasn't  there  something  new  in 
Jennie's  attitude  here?  Wasn't  his  belief  in 
what  he  was  doing  precisely  the  thing  which 
had  made  him  such  .a  nuisance  to  the  county 
superintendent?  However,  Jim  couldn't  stop 


240  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

to  answer  the  question  which  popped  up  in  his 
mind. 

"What  does  Professor  Withers  say?"  he 
asked. 

"He's  delighted— silly!" 

"Silly !"  How  wonderful  it  was  to  be  called 
"silly"—!!!  that  tone. 

"I  shouldn't  have  forgotten  the  speech  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  this  darned  boiled  shirt  and 
collar,  and  for  wearing  a  cravat,"  urged  Jim 
in  extenuation. 

"You  ought  to  've  worn  them  around  the 
house  for  a  week  before  coming,"  said  Jennie. 
"Why  didn't  you  ask  my  advice?" 

"I  will,  next  time,  Jennie,"  said  Jim.  "I 
didn't  suppose  I  needed  a  bitting-rig — but  I 
guess  I  did!" 

Jennie  ran  away  then  to  ask  Nils  Hansen 
and  Bettina  to  join  their  dinner  party.  She 
had  a  sudden  access  of  friendliness  for  the 
Hansens.  Nils  refused  because  he  was  going 
out  to  see  the  college  herds  fed ;  but  at  Jennie's 
urgent  request,  reinforced  by  pats  and  hugs, 
Bettina  consented.  Jennie  was  very  happy,  and 
proved  herself  a  beaming  hostess.  The  dean 


JIM  GOES  TO  AMES  241 

devoted  himself  to  Bettina — and  Jim  found  out 
afterward  that  this  inquiring  gentleman  was 
getting  at  the  mental  processes  of  a  specimen 
pupil  in  one  of  the  new  kind  of  rural  schools, 
in  which  he  was  only  half  inclined  to  believe. 
He  thanked  Jim  for  his  speech,  and  said  it  was 
"most  suggestive  and  thought-provoking,"  and 
as  the  party  broke  up  slipped  into  Jim's  hand 
a  check  for  the  honorarium.  It  was  not  until 
then  that  Jim  felt  quite  sure  that  he  was  actu 
ally  to  be  paid  for  his  speech;  and  he  felt  a 
good  deal  like  returning  the  check  to  the  con 
science  fund  of  the  State  of  Iowa,  if  it  by  any 
chance  possessed  such  a  fund.  But  the  breach 
made  in  his  financial  entrenchments  by  the  ex 
penses  of  the  trip  and  the  respectable  and  well- 
fitting  suit  of  clothes  overcame  his  feeling  of 
getting  something  for  nothing.  If  he  hadn't 
given  the  state  anything,  he  had  at  least  ex 
pended  something — a  good  deal  in  fact — on  the 
state's  account. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

JIM'S  WORLD  WIDENS 

TV/fR-  HOFMYER  was  waiting  to  give  Jim 
the  final  convincing  proof  that  he  had 
produced  an  effect  with  his  speech. 

"Do  you  teach  the  kind  of  school  you  lay 
out  in  your  talk?"  he  asked. 

"I  try  to,"  said  Jim,  "and  I  believe  I  do."  . 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Hofmyer,  "that's  the  kind 
of  education  I  b'lieve  in.  I  kep'  school  back 
in  Pennsylvany  fifty  years  ago,  and  I  made  the 
scholars  measure  things,  and  weigh  things,  and 
apply  their  studies  as  fur  as  I  could." 

"All  good  teachers  have  always  done  that," 
said  Jim.  "Froebel,  Pestalozzi,  Colonel  Parker 
— they  all  had  the  idea  which  is  at  the  bottom 
of  my  work;  'learn  to  do  by  doing,'  and  con 
necting  up  the  school  with  life." 

"M'h'm,"  grunted  Mr.  Hofmyer,  "I  hain't 
been  able  to  see  how  Latin  connects  up  with  a 
242 


JIM'S  WORLD  WIDENS  243 

high-school  kid's  life — unless  he  can  find  a 
Latin  settlement  som'eres  and  git  a  job  clerkin' 
in  a  store." 

"But  it  used  to  relate  to  life,"  said  Jim,  "the 
life  of  the  people  who  made  Greek  and  Latin  a 
part  of  everybody  else's  education  as  well  as 
their  own.  Latin  and  Greek  were  the  only  lan 
guages  in  which  anything  worth  much  was 
written,  you  know.  But  now" — Jim  spread 
out  his  arms  as  if  to  take  in  the  whole  world — 
"science,  the  marvelous  literature  of  our 
tongue  in  the  last  three  centuries!  And  to 
make  a  child  learn  Latin  with  all  that,  a  thou 
sand  times  richer  than  all  the  literature  of 
Latin,  lying  unused  before  him!" 

"Know  any  Latin?"  asked  Mr.  Hofmyer. 

Jim  blushed,  as  one  caught  in  condemning 
what  he  knows  nothing  about. 

"I — I  have  studied  the  grammar,  and  read 
Caesar"  he  faltered,  "but  that  isn't  much.  I 
had  no  teacher,  and  I  had  to  work  pretty  hard, 
and  it  didn't  go  very  well." 

"I've  had  all  the  Latin  they  gave  in  the  col 
leges  of  my  time,"  said  Mr.  Hofmyer,  "if  I  do 
talk  dialect;  and  I'll  agree  with  you  so  far  as 


244  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

to  say  that  it  would  have  been  a  crime  for 
me  to  neglect  the  chemistry,  bacteriology,  phys 
ics,  engineering  and  other  sciences  that  per 
tain  to  farmin' — if  there'd  been  any  such  sci 
ences  when  I  was  gettin'  my  schoolinY' 

"And  yet,"  said  Jim,  "some  people  want  us 
to  guide  ourselves  by  the  courses  of  study  made 
before  these  sciences  existed." 

"I  don't,  by  hokey !"  said  Mr.  Hof myer.  "I'll 
be  dag-goned  if  you  ain't  right.  I  wouldn't  V 
said  so  before  I  heard  that  speech — but  I  say 
so  now." 

Jim's  face  lighted  up  at  this,  the  first  con 
vincing  evidence  that  he  had  scored. 

"I  b'lieve,  too,"  went  on  Mr.  Hofmyer,  "that 
your  idee  would  please  our  folks.  I've  been  the 
standpatter  in  our  parts — mostly  on  English 
and — say  German.  What  d'ye  say  to  comin* 
down  and  teachin'  our  school?  We've  got  a 
two-room  affair,  and  I  was  made  a  committee 
of  one  to  find  a  teacher." 

"I — I  don't  see  how — "  Jim  stammered,  all 
taken  aback  by  this  new  breeze  of  recognition. 

"We  can't  pay  much,"  said  Mr.  Hofmyer. 


JIM'S  WORLD  WIDENS  245 

"You  have  charge  of  the  dis-cip-line  in  the 
whole  school,  and  teach  in  Number  Two  room. 
Seventy-five  dollars  a  month.  Does  it  appeal 
to  ye?" 

Appeal  to  him!  Why,  eighteen  months  ago 
it  would  have  been  worth  crawling  across  the 
state  after,  and  now  to  have  it  offered  to  him 
— it  was  stupendous.  And  yet,  how  about  the 
Simmses,  Colonel  Woodruff,  the  Hansens  and 
Newton  Bronson,  now  just  getting  a  firm  start 
on  the  upward  path  to  usefulness  and  real  hap 
piness?  How  could  he  leave  the  little,  crude, 
puny  structure  on  which  he  had  been  working 
— on  which  he  had  been  merely  practising — 
for  a  year,  and  remove  to  the  new  field?  Jim 
was  in  exactly  the  same  situation  in  which 
every  able  young  minister  of  the  gospel  finds 
himself  sooner  or  later.  The  Lord  was  calling 
to  a  broader  field — but  how  could  he  be  sure 
it  was  the  Lord? 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't,"  said  Jim  Irwin, 
"but " 

"If  you're  only  'fraid  you  can't,"  said  Mr. 
Hofmyer,  "think  it  over.  I've  got  your  post- 


246  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

office  address  on  this  program,  and  we'll  write 
you  a  formal  offer.  We  may  spring  them  fig 
ures  a  little.  Think  it  over." 

"You  mustn't  think,"  said  Jim,  "that  we've 
done  all  the  things  I  mentioned  in  my  talk,  or 
that  I  haven't  made  any  mistakes  or  failures." 

"Your  county  superintendent  didn't  mention 
any  failures,"  said  Mr.  Hofmyer. 

"Did  you  talk  with  her  about  my  work?"  in 
quired  Jim,  suddenly  very  curious. 

"M'h'm." 

"Then  I  don't  see  why  you  want  me,"  Jim 
went  on. 

"Why?"  asked  Mr.  Hofmyer. 

"I  had  not  supposed,"  said  Jim,  "that  she 
had  a  very  high  opinion  of  my  work." 

"I  didn't  ask  her  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Hof 
myer,  "though  I  guess  she  thinks  well  of  it.  I 
asked  her  what  you  are  tryin'  to  do,  and  what 
sort  of  a  fellow  you  are.  I  was  favorably  im 
pressed  ;  but  she  didn't  mention  any  failures." 

"We  haven't  succeeded  in  adopting  a  suc 
cessful  system  of  selling  our  cream,"  said  Jim. 
"I  believe  we  can  do  it,  but  we  haven't." 

"Wai,"  said  Mr.  Hofmyer,  "I  d'know  as  I'd 


JIM'S  WORLD  WIDENS  247 

call  that  a  failure.  The  fact  that  you're  tryin' 
of  it  shows  you've  got  the  right  idees.  We'll 
write  ye,  and  mebbe  pay  your  way  down  to 
look  us  over.  We're  a  pretty  good  crowd,  the 
neighbors  think," 


CHAPTER  XX 
THINK  OF  IT 

A  MES  was  an  inspiration.  Jim  Irwin  re- 
**•  ceived  from  the  great  agricultural  college 
more  real  education  in  this  one  trip  than  many 
students  get  from  a  four  years'  course  in  its 
halls;  for  he  had  spent  ten  years  in  getting 
ready  for  the  experience.  The  great  farm  of 
hundreds  of  acres,  all  under  the  management 
of  experts,  the  beautiful  campus,  the  commodi 
ous  classrooms  and  laboratories,  and  espe 
cially  the  barns,  the  greenhouses,  gardens, 
herds  and  flocks  filled  him  with  a  sort  of  apos 
tolic  joy. 

"Every  school,"  said  he  to  Professor  With 
ers,  "ought  to  be  doing  a  good  deal  of  the  work 
you  have  to  do  here." 

"1*11  admit,"  said  the  professor,  "that  much 
of  our  work  in  agriculture  is  pretty  element 
ary." 

248 


THINK  OF  IT  249 

"It's  intermediate  school  work,"  said  Jim. 
"It's  a  wrong  to  force  boys  and  girls  to  leave 
their  homes  and  live  in  a  college  to  get  so  much 
of  what  they  should  have  before  they're  ten 
years  old." 

"There's  something  in  what  you  say,"  said 
the  professor,  "but  some  experiment  station 
men  seem  to  think  that  agriculture  in  the  com 
mon  schools  will  take  from  the  young  men  and 
women  the  felt  need,  and  therefore  the  desire 
to  come  to  the  college." 

"If  you  can't  give  them  anything  better  than 
high-school  work,"  said  Jim,  "that  will  be  so; 
but  if  the  science  and  art  of  agriculture  is  what 
I  think  it  is,  it  would  make  them  hungry  for  the 
advanced  work  that  really  can't  be  done  at 
home.  To  make  the  children  wait  until  they're 
twenty  is  to  deny  them  more  than  half  what 
the  college  ought  to  give  them — and  make  them 
pay  for  what  they  don't  get." 

"I  think  you're  right,"  said  the  professor. 

"Give  us  the  kind  of  schools  I  ask  for,"  cried 
Jim,  "and  I'll  fill  a  college  like  this  in  every  con 
gressional  district  in  Iowa,  or  I'll  force  you  to 
tear  this  down  and  build  larger." 


250  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

The  professor  laughed  at  his  enthusiasm. 

More  nearly  happy,  and  rather  shorter  of 
money  than  he  had  recently  been,  Jim  jour 
neyed  home  among  the  companions  from  his 
own  neighborhood,  in  a  frenzy  of  plans  for  the 
future.  Mr.  Hofmyer  had  dropped  from  his 
mind,  until  Con  Bonner,  his  old  enemy,  drew 
him  aside  in  the  vestibule  of  the  train  and 
spoke  to  him  in  the  mysterious  manner  pe 
culiar  to  politicians. 

"What  kind  of  a  proposition  did  that  man 
Hofmeister  make  you?"  he  inquired.  "He 
asked  me  about  you,  and  I  told  him  you're  a 
cracker  jack." 

"Pm  much  obliged,"  replied  Jim. 

"No  use  in  back-cappin'  a  fellow  that's 
tryin'  to  make  somethin'  of  himself,"  said  Bon 
ner.  "That  ain't  good  politics,  nor  good  sense. 
Anything  to  him?" 

"He  offered  me  a  salary  of  seventy-five  dol 
lars  a  month  to  take  charge  of  his  school,"  said 
Jim. 

"Well,"  said  Con,  "we'll  be  sorry  to  lose  yeh, 
but  you  can't  turn  down  anything  like  that." 


THINK  OF  IT  251 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Jim.  "I  haven't  de 
cided." 

Bonner  scrutinized  his  face  sharply,  as  if  to 
find  out  what  sort  of  game  he  was  playing. 

"Well,"  said  he,  at  last,  "I  hope  you  can  stay 
with  us,  o'  course.  I'm  licked,  and  I  never 
squeal.  If  the  rist  of  the  district  can  stand 
your  kind  of  thricks,  I  can.  And  say,  Jim" — 
here  he  grew  still  more  mysterious — "if  you  do 
stay,  some  of  us  would  like  to  have  you  be 
enough  of  a  Dimmycrat  to  go  into  the  next  con- 
vintion  f'r  county  superintendent." 

"Why,"  replied  Jim,  "I  never  thought  of 
such  a  thing!" 

"Well,  think  of  it,"  said  Con.  "The  county's 
close,  and  wid  a  pop'lar  young  educator — an'  a 
farmer,  too,  it  might  be  done.  Think  of  it." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Jim  was  almost 
dazed  at  the  number  of  "propositions"  of  which 
he  was  now  required  to  "think" — and  that  Bon- 
ner's  did  not  at  first  impress  him  as  having 
anything  back  of  it  but  blarney.  He  was  to 
find  out  later,  however,  that  the  wily  Con  had 
made  up  his  mind  that  the  ambition  of  Jim 


252  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

to  serve  the  rural  schools  in  a  larger  sphere 
might  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  to 
earth  what  he  regarded  as  the  soaring  politi 
cal  ambitions  of  the  Woodruff  family. 

To  defeat  the  colonel  in  the  defeat  of  his 
daughter  when  running  for  her  traditionally- 
granted  second  term;  to  get  Jim  Irwin  out  of 
the  Woodruff  District  by  kicking  him  up-stairs 
into  a  county  office;  to  split  the  forces  which 
had  defeated  Mr.  Bonner  in  his  own  school  dis 
trict;  and  to  do  these  things  with  the  very  in 
strument  used  by  the  colonel  on  that  sad  but 
glorious  day  of  the  last  school  election — these, 
to  Mr.  Bonner,  would  be  diabolically  fine  things 
to  do — things  worthy  of  those  Tammany  politi 
cians  who  from  afar  off  had  won  his  admira 
tion. 

Jim  had  scarcely  taken  his  seat  in  the  car, 
facing  Jennie  Woodruff  and  Bettina  Hansen  in 
the  Pullman,  when  Columbus  Brown,  path- 
master  of  the  road  district  and  only  across  the 
way  from  residence  in  the  school  district,  came 
down  the  aisle  and  called  Jim  to  the  smoking- 
room. 

"Did  an  old  fellow  named  Hoffman  from  Pot- 


THINK  OF  IT  253 

tawatomie  County  ask  you  to  leave  us  and  take 
his  school?"  he  asked. 

"Mr.  Hofmyer,"  said  Jim,  " — yes,  he  did." 

"Well,"  said  Columbus,  "I  don't  want  to  ask 
you  to  stand  in  your  own  light,  but  I  hope  you 
won't  let  him  toll  you  off  there  among  stran 
gers.  We're  proud  of  you,  Jim,  and  we  don't 
want  to  lose  you." 

Proud  of  him!  Sweet  music  to  the  under 
ling's  ears!  Jim  blushed  and  stammered. 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Columbus,  "I  know  that 
Woodruff  District  job  hain't  big  enough  for 
you  any  more ;  but  we  can  make  it  bigger.  If 
you'll  stay,  I  believe  we  can  pull  off  a  deal  to 
consolidate  some  of  them  districts,  and  make 
you  boss  of  the  whole  shooting  match." 

"I  appreciate  this,  dumb,"  said  Jim,  "but  I 
don't  believe  you  can  do  it." 

"Well,  think  of  it,"  said  Columbus.  "And 
don't  do  anything  till  you  talk  with  me  and  a 
few  of  the  rest  of  the  boys." 

"Think  of  it"  again! 

A  fine  home-coming  it  was  for  Jim,  with  the 
colonel  waiting  at  the  station  with  a  double 
jBfeigh,  and  the  chance  to  ride  into  the  snowy 


254  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

country  in  the  same  seat  with  Jennie — a  chance 
which  was  blighted  by  the  colonel's  placing  of 
Jennie,  Bettina  and  Nils  Hansen  in  the  broad 
rear  seat,  and  Jim  in  front  with  himself.  A 
fine  ride,  just  the  same,  over  fine  roads,  and 
past  fine  farmsteads  snuggled  into  their  rect 
angular  wrappages  of  trees  set  out  in  the  old 
pioneer  days.  The  colonel  would  not  allow  him 
to  get  out  and  walk  when  he  could  really  have 
reached  home  more  quickly  by  doing  so ;  no,  he 
set  the  Hansens  down  at  their  door,  took  Jen 
nie  home,  and  then  drove  the  lightened  sleigh 
merrily  to  the  humble  cabin  of  the  rather  ex 
cited  young  schoolmaster. 

"Did  you  make  any  deal  with  those  people 
down  in  the  western  part  of  the  state?"  asked 
the  colonel.  "Jennie  wrote  me  that  you've  got 
an  offer." 

"No,"  said  Jim,  and  he  told  the  colonel  about 
the  proposal  of  Mr.  Hofmyer. 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "in  my  capacity  of 
wild-eyed  reformer,  I've  made  up  my  mind  that 
the  first  four  miles  in  tne  trip  is  to  make  the 
rural  teacher's  job  a  bigger  job.  It's  got  to 
be  a  man's  size,  woman's  size  job,  or  we  can't 


THINK  OF  IT  255 

get  real  men  and  real  women  to  stay  in  the 
work." 

"I  think  that's  a  statesmanlike  formulation 
of  it,"  said  Jim. 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "don't  turn  down 
the  Pottawatomie  County  job  until  we  have  a 
chance  to  see  what  we  can  do.  I'll  get  some 
kind  of  a  meeting  together,  and  what  I  want 
you  to  do  is  to  use  this  offer  as  a  club  over 
this  helpless  school  district.  What  we  need  is 
to  be  held  up.  Do  the  Jesse  James  act,  Jim!" 

"I  can't,  Colonel!" 

"Yes,  you  can,  too.    Will  you  try  it?" 

"I  want  to  treat  everybody  fairly,"  said  Jim, 
"including  Mr.  Hofmyer.  I  don't  know  what 
to  do,  hardly." 

"Well,  I'll  get  the  meeting  together,"  said 
the  colonel,  "and  in  the  meantime,  think  of 
what  I've  said." 

Another  thing  to  think  of!  Jim  rushed  into 
the  house  and  surprised  his  mother,  who  had 
expected  him  to  arrive  after  a  slow  walk  from 
town  through  the  snow.  Jim  caught  her  in 
his  arms,  from  which  she  was  released  a  mo 
ment  later,  quite  flustered  and  blushing. 


256  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Why,  James,"  said  she,  "you  seem  excited. 
What's  happened?" 

"Nothing,  mother,"  he  replied,  "except  that 
I  believe  there's  just  a  possibility  of  my  being  a 
success  in  the  world!" 

"My  boy,  my  boy !"  said  she,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm,  "if  you  were  to  die  to-night,  you'd 
die  the  greatest  success  any  boy  ever  was — if 
your  mother  is  any  judge." 

Jim  kissed  her,  and  went  up  to  his  attic  to 
change  his  clothes.  Inside  the  waistcoat  was 
a  worn  envelope,  which  he  carefully  opened, 
and  took  from  it  a  letter  much  creased  from 
many  foldings.  It  was  the  old  letter  from  Jen 
nie,  written  when  the  comical  mistake  had  been 
made  of  making  him  the  teacher  of  the  Wood 
ruff  school.  It  still  contained  her  rather  fussy 
cautions  about  being  "too  original,"  and  the 
sage  statement  that  "the  wheel  runs  easiest  in 
the  beaten  track."  It  was  written  before  the 
vexation  and  trouble  he  had  caused  her ;  but  he 
did  not  read  the  advice,  nor  think  of  the  cool 
ness  which  had  come  between  them — he  read 
only  the  sentence  in  which  Jennie  had  told  of 


THINK  OF  IT  257 

her  father's  interest  in  Jim's  success,  ending 
with  the  underscored  words,  "I'm  for  you,  too" 
"I  wonder,"  said  Jim,  as  he  went  out  to  do 
the  evening's  tasks,  "I  wonder  if  she  is  for 
me!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 
A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP 

V;OUNG  McGEEHEE  SIMMS  was  loitering 
along  the  snowy  way  to  the  schoolhouse 
bearing  a  brightly  scoured  tin  pail  two-thirds 
full  of  water.  He  had  been  allowed  to  act  as 
Water  Superintendent  of  the  Woodruff  School 
as  a  reward  of  merit — said  merit  being  an  es 
say  on  which  he  received  credit  in  both  language 
and  geography  on  "Harvesting  Wheat  in  the 
Tennessee  Mountains."  This  had  been  of  vast 
interest  to  the  school  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the 
Simmses  were  the  only  pupils  in  the  school 
who  had  ever  seen  in  use  that  supposedly- 
obsolete  harvesting  implement,  the  cradle. 
Buddy's  essay  had  been  passed  over  to  the  class 
in  United  States  history  as  the  evidence  of  an 
eye-witness  concerning  farming  conditions  in 
cur  grandfathers'  times. 
258 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    259 

The  surnameless  Pete,  Colonel  Woodruff's 
hired  man,  halted  Buddy  at  the  door. 

"Mr.  Simms,  I  believe?"  he  said. 

"I  reckon  you  must  be  lookin'  for  my 
brother,  Raymond,  suh,"  said  Buddy. 

"I  am  a-lookin',"  said  Pete  impressively, 
"for  Mr.  McGeehee  Simms." 

"That's  me,"  said  Buddy;  "but  I  hain't  been 
doin'  nothin'  wrong,  suh!" 

"I  have  a  message  here,"  said  Pete,  "for  Pro 
fessor  James  E.  Irwin.  He's  what-ho  within, 
there,  ain't  he?" 

"He's  inside,  I  reckon,"  said  Buddy. 

"Then  will  you  be  so  kind  and  condescendin' f 
as  to  stoop  so  low  as  to  jump  so  high  as  to' 
give  him  this  letter?"  asked  Pete. 

Buddy  took  the  letter  and  was  considering 
of  his  reply  to  this  remarkable  speech,  when 
Pete,  gravely  saluting,  passed  on,  rather  con 
gratulating  himself  on  having  staged  a  very 
good  burlesque  of  the  dignified  manners  of 
those  queer  mountaineers,  the  Simmses. 

"Please  come  to  the  meeting  to-night,"  ran 
the  colonel's  note  to  Jim ;  "and  when  you  come, 
come  prepared  to  hold  the  district  up.  If  we 


260  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

can't  meet  the  Pottawatomie  County  standard 
of  wages,  we  ought  to  lose  you.  Everybody  in 
the  district  will  be  there.  Come  late,  so  you 
won't  hear  yourself  talked  about — I  should  rec 
ommend  nine-thirty  and  war-paint." 

It  was  a  crisis,  no  doubt  of  that ;  and  the  re 
sponsibility  of  the  situation  rather  sickened 
Jim  of  the  task  of  teaching.  How  could  he 
impose  conditions  on  the  whole  school  district? 
How  could  the  colonel  expect  such  a  thing  of 
him?  And  how  could  any  one  look  for  any 
thing  but  scorn  for  the  upstart  field-hand  from 
these  men  who  had  for  so  many  years  made 
him  the  butt  of  their  good-natured  but  none 
the  less  contemptuous  ridicule?  Who  was  he, 
anyway,  to  lay  down  rules  for  these  substan 
tial  and  successful  men — he  who  had  been  for 
all  the  years  of  his  life  at  their  command,  sub 
servient  to  their  demands  for  labor — their  un 
derling?  Only  one  thing  kept  him  from  dodg 
ing  the  whole  issue  and  remaining  at  home — 
the  colonel's  matter-of-fact  assumption  that 
Jim  had  become  master  of  the  situation.  How 
could  he  flee,  when  this  old  soldier  was  fighting 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    261 

so  valiantly  for  him  in  the  trenches?  So  Jim 
went  to  the  meeting. 

The  season  was  nearing  spring,  and  it  was 
a  mild  thawy  night.  The  windows  of  the 
schoolhouse  were  filled  with  heads,  evidenc 
ing  the  presence  of  a  crowd  of  almost  unprece 
dented  size,  and  the  sashes  had  been  thrown 
up  for  ventilation  and  coolness.  As  Jim 
climbed  the  back  fence  of  the  school-yard,  he 
heard  a  burst  of  applause,  from  which  he 
judged  that  some  speaker  had  just  finished  his 
remarks.  There  was  silence  when  he  came 
alongside  the  window  at  the  right  of  the  chair 
man's  desk,  a  silence  broken  by  the  voice  of 
Old  Man  Simms,  saying  "Mistah  Chairman!" 

"The  chair,"  said  the  voice  of  Ezra  Bronson, 
"recognizes  Mr.  Simms." 

Jim  halted  in  indecision.  He  was  not  ex 
pected  while  the  debate  was  in  progress,  and 
therefore  regarded  himself  at  this  time  as 
somewhat  de  trop.  There  is  no  rule  of  man 
ners  or  morals,  however,  forbidding  eavesdrop 
ping  during  the  proceedings  of  a  public  meet 
ing — and  anyhow,  he  felt  rather  shiveringly 


262  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

curious  about  these  deliberations.  Therefore 
he  listened  to  the  first  and  last  public  speech 
of  Old  Man  Simms. 

"Ah  ain't  no  speaker,"  said  Old  Man  Simms, 
"but  Ah  cain't  set  here  and  be  quiet  an'  go 
home  an*  face  my  ole  woman  an*  my  boys  an' 
gyuhls  withouten  sayin'  a  word  fo'  the  best 
friend  any  family  evah  had,  Mr.  Jim  Irwin." 
(Applause.)  "Ah  owe  it  to  him  that  Ah've 
got  the  right  to  speak  in  this  meetin'  at  all. 
Gentlemen,  we-all  owe  everything  to  Mr.  Jim 
Irwin!  Maybe  Ah'll  be  thought  forrard  to 
speak  hyah,  bein'  as  Ah  ain't  no  learnin'  an' 
some  may  think  Ah  don't  pay  no  taxes;  but  it 
will  be  overlooked,  I  reckon,  seem'  as  how  we've 
took  the  Blanchard  farm,  a  hundred  an'  sixty 
acres,  for  five  yeahs,  an'  move  in  a  week  from 
Sat' day.  We  pay  taxes  in  our  rent,  Ah  reckon, 
an'  howsomever  that  may  be,  Ah've  come  to 
feel  that  you-all  won't  think  hard  of  me  if  Ah 
speak  what  we-uns  feel  so  strong  about  Mr. 
Jim  Irwin?" 

Old  Man  Simms  finished  this  exordium  with 
the  rising  inflection,  which  denoted  a  direct 
question  as  to  his  status  in  the  meeting.  "Go 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    263 

on !"  "You've  got  as  good  a  right  as  any  one !" 
"You're  all  right,  old  man!"  Such  exclama 
tions  as  these  came  to  Jim's  ears  with  scarcely 
less  gratefulness  than  to  those  of  Old  Man 
Simms — who  stammered  and  went  on. 

"Ah  thank  you-all  kindly.  Gentlemen  an' 
ladies,  when  Mr.  Jim  Irwin  found  us,  we  was 
scandalous  pore,  an'  we  was  wuss'n  pore — we 
was  low-down."  (Cries  of  "No— No !")  "Yes, 
we  was,  becuz  what's  respectable  in  the  moun 
tings  is  one  thing,  whar  all  the  folks  is  pore, 
but  when  a  man  gets  in  a  new  place,  he's  got 
to  lift  himse'f  up  to  what  folks  does  where 
he's  come  to,  or  he'll  fall  to  the  bottom  of  what 
there  is  in  that  there  community — an'  maybe 
he'll  make  a  place  fer  himse'f  lower'n  anybody 
else.  In  the  mountings  we  was  good  people, 
becuz  we  done  the  best  we  could  an'  the  best 
any  one  done;  but  hyah,  we  was  low-down 
people  becuz  we  hated  the  people  that  had  mo' 
learnin',  mo'  land,  mo'  money,  an'  mo'  friends 
than  what  we  had.  My  little  gyuhls  wasn't 
respectable  in  their  clothes.  My  childern  was 
igernant,  an'  triflin',  but  I  was  the  most  triflin' 
of  all.  Ah'll  leave  it  to  Colonel  Woodruff  if  I 


264  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

was  good  fer  a  plug  of  terbacker,  or  a  bakin*  of 
flour  at  any  sto'  in  the  county.  Was  I,  Colo 
nel?  Wasn't  I  perfectly  wuthless  an'  triflin'?" 

There  was  a  ripple  of  laughter,  in  the  midst 
of  which  the  colonel's  voice  was  heard  saying, 
"I  guess  you  were,  Mr.  Simms,  I  guess  you 
were,  but " 

"Thankee/'  said  Old  Man  Simms,  as  if  the 
colonel  had  given  a  really  valuable  testimonial 
to  his  character.  "I  sho'  was!  Thankee 
kindly!  An'  now,  what  am  I  good  fer?  Cain't 
I  get  anything  I  want  at  the  stores?  Cain't  I 
git  a  little  money  at  the  bank,  if  I  got  to 
have  it?" 

"You're  just  as  good  as  any  man  in  the  dis 
trict,"  said  the  colonel.  "You  don't  ask  for 
more  than  you  can  pay,  and  you  can  get  all 
you  ask." 

"Thankee,"  said  Mr.  Simms  gravely.  "What 
Ah  tell  you-all  is  right,  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
An'  what  has  made  the  change  in  we-uns,  la 
dies  and  gentlemen?  It's  the  wuk  of  Mr.  Jim 
Irwin  with  my  boy  Raymond,  the  best  boy  any 
man  evah  hed,  and  my  gyuhl,  Calista,  an' 
Buddy,  an*  Jinnie,  an'  with  me  an'  my  ole 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    265 

woman.  He  showed  us  how  to  get  a  toe-holt 
into  this  new  kentry.  He  teached  the  children 
what  orto  be  did  by  a  rentin'  farmer  in  loway. 
He  done  lifted  us  up,  an'  made  people  of  us. 
He  done  showed  us  that  you-all  is  good  people, 
an'  not  what  we  thought  you  was.  Outen  what 
he  learned  in  school,  my  boy  Raymond  an'  me 
made  as  good  crops  as  we  could  last  summer, 
an'  done  right  much  wuk  outside.  We  got  the 
name  of  bein'  good  farmers  an'  good  wukkers, 
an'  when  Mr.  Blanchard  moved  to  town,  he  said 
he  was  glad  to  give  us  his  fine  farm  for  five 
years.  Now,  see  what  Mr.  Jim  Irwin  has  done 
for  a  pack  o'  outlaws  and  outcasts.  Instid  o* 
hi  din'  out  from  the  Hobdays  that  was  lay- 
wayin'  us  in  the  mountings,  we'll  be  livin'  in  a 
house  with  two  chimleys  an'  a  swimmin'  tub 
made  outen  crock'ryware.  We'll  be  in  debt  a 
whole  lot — an'  we  owe  it  to  Mr.  Jim  Irwin  that 
we  got  the  credit  to  git  in  debt  with,  an'  the 
courage  to  go  on  and  git  out  agin!"  (Ap 
plause.)  "Ah  could  affo'd  to  pay  Mr.  Jim  Ir- 
win's  salary  mysr'f,  if  Ah  could.  An'  there's 
enough  men  hyah  to-night  that  say  they've  been 
money-he'ped  by  his  teachin'  the  school  to 


266  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

make  up  mo'  than  his  wages.  Let's  not  let  Mr. 
Jim  Irwin  go,  neighbors!  Let's  not  let  him 
go!" 

Jim's  heart  sank.  Surely  the  case  was  des 
perate  which  could  call  forth  such  a  forlorn- 
hope  charge  as  that  of  Old  Man  Simms — a  per 
formance  on  Mr.  Simms'  part  which  warmed 
Jim's  soul.  "There  isn't  a  man  in  that  meet 
ing,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  walked  to  the 
schoolhouse  door,  "possessed  of  the  greatness 
of  spirit  of  Old  Man  Simms.  If  he's  a  fair 
sample  of  the  people  of  the  mountains,  they  are 
of  the  stuff  of  which  great  nations  are  made — 
if  they  only  are  given  a  chance!" 

Colonel  Woodruff  was  on  his  feet  as  Jim 
made  his  way  through  the  crowd  about  the 
door. 

"Mr.  Irwin  is  here,  ladies  and  gentlemen," 
said  he,  "and  I  move  that  we  hear  from  him  as 
to  what  we  can  do  to  meet  the  offer  of  our 
friends  in  Pottawatomie  County,  who  have 
heard  of  his  good  work,  and  want  him  to  work 
for  them;  but  before  I  yield  the  floor,  I  want 
to  say  that  this  meeting  has  been  worth  while 
just  to  have  been  the  occasion  of  our  all  be- 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    267 

coming  better  acquainted  with  our  friend  and 
neighbor,  Mr.  Simms.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  lack  of  understanding,  on  our  part, 
of  his  qualities,  they  were  all  cleared  up  by 
that  speech  of  his — the  best  I  have  ever  heard 
in  this  neighborhood." 

More  applause,  in  the  midst  of  which  Old 
Man  Simms  slunk  away  down  in  his  seat  to  es 
cape  observation.  Then  the  chairman  said  that 
if  there  was  no  objection  they  would  hear  from 
their  well-known  citizen,  whose  growing  fame 
was  more  remarkable  for  the  fact  that  it  had 
been  gained  as  a  country  schoolmaster — he  need 
not  add  that  he  referred  to  Mr.  James  E.  Ir- 
win.  More  and  louder  applause. 

"Friends  and  neighbors,"  said  Jim,  "you  ask 
me  to  say  to  you  what  I  want  you  to  do.  I 
want  you  to  do  what  you  want  to  do — -nothing 
more  nor  less.  Last  year  I  was  glad  to  be  tol 
erated  here;  and  the  only  change  in  the  situa 
tion  lies  in  the  fact  that  I  have  another  place 
offered  me — unless  there  has  been  a  change  in 
your  feelings  toward  me  and  my  work.  I  hope 
there  has  been;  for  I  know  my  work  is  good 
now,  whereas  I  only  believed  it  then." 


268  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Sure  it  is!"  shouted  Con  Bonner  from  a 
front  seat,  thus  signalizing  that  astute  wire 
puller's  definite  choice  of  a  place  in  the  band 
wagon.  "Tell  us  what  you  want,  Jim !" 

"What  do  I  want?"  asked  Jim.  "More  than 
anything  else,  I  want  such  meetings  as  this — 
often — and  a  place  to  hold  them.  If  I  stay  in 
the  Woodruff  District,  I  want  this  meeting  to 
effect  a  permanent  organization  to  work  with 
me.  I  can't  teach  this  district  anything.  No 
body  can  teach  any  one  anything.  All  any 
teacher  can  do  is  to  direct  people's  activities 
in  teaching  themselves.  You  are  gathered  here 
to  decide  what  you'll  do  about  the  small  matter 
of  keeping  me  at  work  as  your  hired  man.  You 
can't  make  any  legal  decision  here,  but  what 
ever  this  meeting  decides  will  be  law,  just  the 
same,  because  a  majority  of  the  people  of  the 
district  are  here.  Such  a  meeting  as  this  can 
decide  almost  anything.  If  I'm  to  be  your 
hired  man,  I  want  a  boss  in  the  shape  of  a 
civic  organization  which  will  take  in  every  man 
and  woman  in  the  district.  Here's  the  place 
and  now's  the  time  to  make  that  organization 
*— an  organization  the  object  of  which  shall  be 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    269 

to  put  the  whole  district  at  school,  and  to  boss 
me  in  my  work  for  the  whole  district." 

"Dat  sounds  good,"  cried  Haakon  Peterson. 
"Ve'lldo  dat!" 

"Then  I  want  you  to  work  out  a  building 
scheme  for  the  school,"  Jim  went  on.  "We 
want  a  place  where  the  girls  can  learn  to  cook, 
keep  house,  take  care  of  babies,  sew  and  learn 
to  be  wives  and  mothers.  We  want  a  place  in 
which  Mrs.  Hansen  can  come  to  show  them  how 
to  cure  meat — she's  the  best  hand  at  that  in 
the  county — where  Mrs.  Bonner  can  teach  them 
to  make  bread  and  pastry — she  ought  to  be 
given  a  doctor's  degree  for  that — where  Mrs. 
Woodruff  can  teach  them  the  cooking  of  tur 
keys,  Mrs.  Peterson  the  way  to  give  the  family 
a  balanced  ration,  and  Mrs.  Simms  induct  them 
into  the  mysteries  of  weaving  rag  rugs  and 
making  jellies  and  preserves — you  can  all  learn 
these  things  from  her.  There's  somebody  right 
in  this  neighborhood  able  to  teach  anything  the 
young  people  want  to  learn. 

"And  I  want  a  physician  here  once  in  a 
While  to  examine  the  children  as  to  their  health, 
and  a  dentist  to  look  after  their  teeth  and  teach 


270  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

them  how  to  care  for  them.  Also  an  oculist  to 
examine  their  eyes.  And  when  Bettina  Han- 
sen  comes  home  from  the  hospital  a  trained 
nurse,  I  want  her  to  have  a  job  as  visiting  nurse 
right  here  in  the  Woodruff  District. 

"I  want  a  counting-room  for  the  keeping  of 
the  farm  accounts  and  the  record  of  our  ob 
servation  in  farming.  I  want  cooperation  in 
letting  us  have  these  accounts. 

"I  want  some  manual  training  equipment  for 
wood- working  and  metal  working,  and  a  black 
smith  and  wagon  shop,  in  which  the  boys  may 
learn  to  shoe  horses,  repair  tools,  design  build 
ings,  and  practise  the  best  agricultural  engi 
neering.  So  I  want  a  blacksmith  and  handy 
man  with  tools  regularly  on  the  job — and  he'll 
more  than  pay  his  way.  I  want  some  land  for 
actual  farming.  I  want  to  do  work  in  poultry 
according  to  the  most  modern  breeding  dis 
coveries,  and  I  want  your  cooperation  in  that, 
and  a  poultry  plant  somewhere  in  the  district. 

"I  want  a  laboratory  in  which  we  can  work 
on  seeds,  pests,  soils,  feeds  and  the  like.  For 
the  education  of  your  children  must  come  out 
of  these  things. 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    271 

"I  want  these  things  because  they  are  neces 
sary  if  we  are  to  get  the  culture  out  of  life  we 
should  get — and  nobody  gets  culture  out  of  any 
sort  of  school — they  get  it  out  of  life,  or  they 
don't  get  it  at  all. 

"So  I  want  you  to  build  as  freely  for  your 
school  as  for  your  cattle  and  horses  and  hogs. 

"The  school  I  ask  for  will  make  each  of  you 
more  money  than  the  taxes  it  will  require 
would  make  if  invested  in  your  farm  equip 
ment.  If  you  are  not  convinced  of  this,  don't 
bother  with  me  any  longer.  But  the  money 
the  school  will  make  for  you — this  new  kind 
of  rural  school — will  be  as  nothing  to  the  so 
cial  life  which  will  grow  up — a  social  life 
which  will  make  necessary  an  assembly-room, 
which  will  be  the  social  center,  because  it  will 
be  the  educational  center,  and  the  business  cen 
ter  of  the  countryside. 

"I  want  all  these  things,  and  more.  But  I 
don't  expect  them  all  at  once.  I  know  that 
this  district  is  too  small  to  do  all  of  them,  and 
therefore,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  of  another 
want  which  will  tempt  you  to  think  that  I  am 
crazy.  I  want  a  bigger  district — one  that  will 


272  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

give  us  the  financial  strength  to  carry  out  the 
program  I  have  sketched.  This  may  be  a  pre 
sumptuous  thing  for  me  to  propose;  but  the 
whole  situation  here  to-night  is  presumptuous 
on  my  part,  I  fear.  If  you  think  so,  let  me 
go;  but  if  you  don't,  please  keep  this  meeting 
together  in  a  permanent  organization  of  grown 
up  members  of  the  Woodruff  school,  and  by 
pulling  together,  you  can  do  these  things — all 
of  them — and  many  more — and  you'll  make  the 
Woodruff  District  a  good  place  to  live  in  and 
die  in — and  I  shall  be  proud  to  live  and  die 
in  it  at  your  service,  as  the  neighborhood's  hired 
man!" 

As  Jim  sat  down  there  was  a  hush  in  the 
crowded  room,  as  if  the  people  were  dazed  at 
his  assurance.  There  was  no  applause,  until 
Jennie  Woodruff,  now  seen  by  Jim  for  the  first 
time  over  next  the  blackboard,  clapped  her 
gloved  hands  together  and  started  it;  then  it 
swept  out  through  the  windows  in  a  storm.  The 
dust  rose  from  stamping  feet  until  the  kero 
sene  lamps  were  dimmed  by  it.  And  as  the 
noise  subsided,  Jim  saw  standing  out  in  front 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    273 

the  stooped  form  of  B.  B.  Hamm,  one  of  the 
most  prosperous  men  in  the  district. 

"Mr.  Chairman — Ezra  Bronson,"  he  roared, 
"this  feller's  crazy,  an*  from  the  sound  of 
things,  you're  all  as  crazy  as  he  is.  If  this  fool 
scheme  of  his  goes  through,  my  farm's  for  sale ! 
I'll  quit  before  I'm  sold  out  for  taxes !" 

"Just  a  minute,  B.  B. !"  interposed  Colonel 
Woodruff.  "This  ain't  as  dangerous  as  you 
think.  *  You  don't  want  us  .to  do  all  this  in  fif 
teen  minutes,  do  you,  Jim?" 

"Oh,  as  to  that,"  replied  Jim,  "I  just  wanted 
you  to  have  in  your  minds  what  I  have  in  my 
mind — and  unless  we  can  agree  to  work  toward 
these  things  there's  no  use  in  my  staying.  But 
time — that's  another  matter.  Believe  with  me, 
and  I'll  wrork  with  you." 

"Get  out  of  here!"  said  the  colonel  to  Jim 
in  an  undertone,  "and  leave  the  rest  to  your 
friends." 

Jim  walked  out  of  the  room  and  took  the  way 
toward  his  home.  A  horse  tied  to  the  hitch- 
ing-pole  had  his  blanket  under  foot,  and  Jim 
replaced  it  on  his  back,  patting  him  kindly  and 


274  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

talking  horse  language  to  him.  Then  he  went 
up  and  down  the  line  of  teams,  readjusting 
blankets,  tying  loosened  knots,  and  assuring 
himself  that  his  neighbors'  horses  were  se 
curely  tied  and  comfortable.  He  knew  horses 
better  than  he  knew  people,  he  thought.  If  he 
could  manage  people  as  he  could  manage  horses 
. — but  that  would  be  wrong.  The  horse  did  his 
work  as  a  servant,  submissive  to  the  wills  of 
others ;  the  community  could  never  develop  any 
thing  worth  while  in  its  common  life,  until  it 
worked  the  system  out  for  itself.  Horse  man 
agement  was  despotism ;  man-government  must 
be  like  the  government  of  a  society  of  wild 
horses,  the  result  of  the  common  work  of  the 
members  of  the  herd. 

Two  figures  emerged  from  the  schoolhouse 
door,  and  as  he  turned  toward  his  home  after 
his  pastoral  calls  on  the  horses,  they  overtook 
him.  They  were  the  figures  of  Newton  Bron- 
son  and  the  county  superintendent  of  schools. 

"We  were  coming  after  you,"  said  Jennie. 

"Dad  wants  you  back  there  again,"  said 
Newton. 

"What  for?"  inquired  Jim. 


A  SCHOOL  DISTRICT  HELD  UP    275 

"You  silly  boy,"  said  Jennie,  "you  talked 
about  the  good  of  the  schools  all  of  the  time, 
and  never  said  a  word  about  your  own  salary ! 
What  do  you  want?  They  want  to  know?" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Jim  in  the  manner  of  one 
who  suddenly  remembers  that  he  has  forgotten 
his  umbrella  or  his  pocket-knife.  "I  forgot  all 
about  it.  I  haven't  thought  about  that  at  all, 
Jennie !" 

"Jim,"  said  she,  "you  need  a  guardian!" 

"I  know  it,  Jennie,"  said  he,  "and  I  know 
who  I  want.  I  want " 

"Please  come  back,"  said  Jennie,  "and  tell 
papa  how  much  you're  going  to  hold  the  dis 
trict  up  for." 

"You  run  back,"  said  Jim  to  Newton,  "and 
tell  your  father  that  whatever  is  right  in  the 
way  of  salary  will  be  satisfactory  to  me.  I 
leave  that  to  the  people." 

Newton  darted  off,  leaving  the  schoolmaster 
standing  in  the  road  with  the  county  superin 
tendent. 

"I  can't  go  back  there!"  said  Jim. 

"I'm  proud  of  you,  Jim,"  said  Jennie.  "This 
community  has  found  its  master.  They  can't 


276  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

do  all  you  ask  now,  nor  very  soon;  but  finally 
they'll  do  just  as  you  want  them  to  do.  And, 
Jim,  I  want  to  say  that  I've  been  the  biggest 
little  fool  in  the  county!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE 

SUPERINTENDENT  JENNIE  sat  at  her 
desk  in  no  very  satisfactory  frame  of  mind. 
In  the  first  place  court  was  to  convene  on  the 
following  Monday,  and  both  grand  jury  and 
petit  juries  would  be  in  session,  so  that  her 
one-room  office  was  not  to  be  hers  for  a  few 
days.  Her  desk  was  even  now  ready  to  be 
moved  into  the  hall  by  the  janitor.  To  Wilbur 
Smythe,  who  did  her  the  honor  of  calling  oc 
casionally  as  the  exigencies  of  his  law  practise 
took  him  past  the  office  of  the  pretty  country 
girl  on  whose  shapely  shoulders  rested  the  bur 
den  of  the  welfare  of  the  schools,  she  remarked 
that  if  they  didn't  soon  build  the  new  court 
house  so  as  to  give  her  such  accommodations 
as  her  office  really  needed,  "they  might  take 
their  old  office — so  there!" 

"Fair  woman,"  said  Wilbur,  as  he  creased 
277 


278  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

his  Prince  Albert  in  a  parting  bow,  "should 
adorn  the  home!" 

"Bosh!"  sneered  Jennie,  rather  pleased,  all 
the  same,  "suppose  she  isn't  fair,  and  hasn't 
any  home !" 

This  question  of  adorning  a  home  was  no 
nearer  settlement  with  Jennie  than  it  had  ever 
been,  though  increasingly  a  matter  of  specu 
lation. 

There  were  two  or  three  men — rather  good 
catches,  too — who,  if  they  were  encouraged — 
but  what  was  there  to  any  of  them  ?  Take  Wil 
bur  Smythe,  now;  he  would  by  sheer  force  of 
persistent  assurance  and  fair  abilities  eventu 
ally  get  a  good  practise  for  a  country  lawyer 
— three  or  four  thousand  a  year — serve  in  the 
legislature  or  the  state  senate,  and  finally  be 
come  a  bank  director  with  a  goodly  standing 
as  a  safe  business  man;  but  what  was  there 
to  him?  This  is  what  Jennie  asked  her  paper 
weight  as  she  placed  it  on  a  pile  of  unfinished 
examination  papers.  And  the  paper-weight 
echoed,  "Not  a  thing  out  of  the  ordinary !"  And 
then,  said  Jennie,  "Well,  you  little  simpleton, 
who  and  what  are  you  so  out  of  the  ordinary 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        279 

that  you  should  sneer  at  Wilbur  Smythe  and 
Beckman  Fifield  and  such  men?"  And  echo 
answered,  "What?" — and  then  the  mail-carrier 
came  in. 

Down  near  the  bottom  of  the  pile  she  found 
this  letter,  signed  by  a  southern  state  superin 
tendent  of  schools,  but  dated  at  Kirksville, 
Missouri : 


"I  am  a  member  of  a  party  of  southern  edu 
cators — state  superintendents  in  the  main,"  the 
letter  ran,  "en  tour  of  the  country  to  see  what 
we  can  find  of  an  instructive  nature  in  rural 
school  work.  I  assure  you  that  we  are  being 
richly  repaid  for  the  time  and  expense.  There 
are  things  going  on  in  the  schools  here  in  north 
eastern  Missouri,  for  instance,  which  merit 
much  study.  We  have  met  Professor  Withers, 
of  Ames,  who  suggests  that  we  visit  your 
schools,  and  especially  the  rural  school  taught 
by  a  young  man  named  Irwin,  and  I  wonder  if 
you  will  be  free  on  next  Monday  morning,  if 
we  come  to  your  office,  to  direct  us  to  the 
place  ?  If  you  could  accompany  us  on  the  trip, 
and  perhaps  show  us  some  of  your  other  ex 
cellent  schools,  we  should  be  honored  and 
pleased.  The  South  is  recreating  her  rural 
Schools,  and  we  are  coming  to  believe  that  we 
shall  be  better  workmen  if  we  create  a  new 
kind,  rather  than  an  improvement  of  the  old 
kind.11 


280  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

There  was  more  of  this  courteous  and  defer 
ential  letter,  all  giving  Jennie  a  sense  of  being 
saluted  by  a  fine  gentleman  in  satin  and  ruffles, 
and  with  a  plume  on  his  hat.  And  then  came 
the  shock — a  party  of  state  officials  were  com 
ing  into  the  county  to  study  Jim  Irwin's  school ! 
They  would  never  come  to  study  Wilbur 
Smythe's  law  practise — never  in  the  world — 
or  her  work  as  county  superintendent — never! 
- — and  Jim  was  getting  seventy-five  dollars  a 
month,  and  had  a  mother  to  support.  More 
over,  he  was  getting  more  than  he  had  asked 
when  the  colonel  had  told  him  to  "hold  the  dis 
trict  up!"  But  there  could  be  no  doubt  that 
there  was  something  to  Jim — the  man  was  out 
of  the  ordinary.  And  wasn't  that  just  what 
she  had  been  looking  for  in  her  mind? 

Jennie  wired  to  her  southerner  for  the  num 
ber  of  his  party,  and  secured  automobiles  for 
the  trip.  She  sent  a  note  to  Jim  Irwin  telling 
of  the  prospective  visitation.  She  would  show 
all  concerned  that  she  could  do  some  things, 
anyhow,  and  she  wrould  send  these  people  on 
with  a  good  impression  of  her  county. 

She  was  glad  of  the  automobiles  the  next 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        281 

Monday  morning,  when  at  nine-thirty  the  train 
discharged  upon  her  a  dozen  very  alert,  very 
up-to-date,  very  inquisitive  southerners,  male 
and  female,  most  of  whom  seemed  to  have  left 
their  "r's"  in  the  gulf  region.  It  was  eleven 
when  the  party  parked  their  machines  before 
the  schoolhouse  door. 

"There  are  visitors  here  before  us,"  said 
Jennie. 

"Seems  rather  like  an  educational  shrine," 
said  Doctor  Brathwayt,  of  Mississippi.  "How 
does  he  accommodate  so  many  visitors  in  that 
small  edifice?" 

"I  am  not  aware,"  said  Jennie,  "that  he  has 
been  in  the  habit  of  receiving  so  very  many 
from  outside  the  district.  Well,  shall  we 
go  in?" 

Once  inside,  Jennie  felt  a  queer  return  of 
her  old  aversion  to  Jim's  methods — the  aver 
sion  which  had  caused  her  to  criticize  him  so 
sharply  on  the  occasion  of  her  first  visit.  The 
reason  for  the  return  of  the  feeling  lay  in  the 
fact  that  the  work  going  on  was  of  the  same 
sort,  but  of  a  more  intense  character.  It  was 
so  utterly  unlike  a  school  as  Jennie  understood 


282  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  word,  that  she  glanced  back  at  the  group 
of  educators  with  a  little  blush.  The  school 
was  in  a  sort  of  uproar.  Not  that  uproar  of 
boredom  and  mischief  of  which  most  of  us  have 
familiar  memories,  but  a  sort  of  eager  uproar, 
in  which  every  child  was  intensely  interested 
in  the  same  thing ;  and  did  little  rustling  things 
because  of  this  interest;  something  like  the 
hum  at  a  football  game  or  a  dog-fight. 

On  one  side  of  the  desk  stood  Jim  Irwin,  and 
facing  him  was  a  smooth  stranger  of  the  old- 
fashioned  lightning-rod-agent  type — the  shal 
lower  and  laxer  sort  of  salesman  of  the  kind 
whose  sole  business  is  to  get  signatures  on  the 
dotted  line,  and  let  some  one  else  do  the  rest. 
In  short,  he  was  a  "closer." 

Standing  back  of  him  in  evident  distress  was 
Mr.  Cornelius  Bonner,  and  grouped  about  were 
Columbus  Brown,  B.  B.  Hamm,  Ezra  Bronson, 
A.  B.  Talcott  and  two  or  three  others  from 
outside  the  Woodruff  District.  With  envelopes 
in  their  hands  and  the  light  of  battle  in  their 
eyes  stood  Newton  Bronson,  Raymond  Simms, 
Bettina  Hansen,  Mary  Smith  and  Angie  Talcott, 
the  boys  filled  with  delight,  the  girls  rather 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        283 

4 

frightened  at  being  engaged  in  something  like 
a  debate  with  the  salesman. 

As  the  latest-coming  visitors  moved  forward, 
they  heard  the  schoolmaster  finishing  his  pas 
sage  at  arms  with  the  salesman. 

"You  should  not  feel  exasperated  at  us,  Mr. 
Carmiehael,"  said  he  in  tones  of  the  most  com 
plete  respect,  "for  what  our  figures  show.  You 
are  unfortunate  in  the  business  proposition  you 
offer  this  community.  That  is  all.  Even  these 
children  have  the  facts  to  prove  that  the 
creamery  outfit  you  offer  is  not  worth  within 
two  thousand  dollars  of  what  you  ask  for  it, 
and  that  it  is  very  doubtful  if  it  is  the  sort 
of  outfit  we  should  need." 

"I'll  bet  you  a  thousand  dollars — "  began 
Carmiehael  hotly,  when  Jim  waved  him  down. 

"Not  with  me,"  said  Jim.  "Your  friend,  Mr. 
Bonner,  there,  knows  what  chance  there  is  for 
you  to  bet  even  a  thousand  cents  with  me.  Be-, 
sides,  we  know  our  facts,  in  this  school.  We've 
been  working  on  them  for  a  long  time." 

"Bet  your  life  we  have !"  interpolated  New 
ton  Bronson. 

"Before  we  finish,"  said   Jim,   "I  want  to 


284  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

thank  you  gentlemen  for  bringing  in  Mr.  Car- 
michael.  We  have  been  reading  up  on  the  lit 
erature  of  the  creamery  promoter,  and  it  is  a 
very  fine  thing  to  have  one  in  the  flesh  with 
whom  to — to — demonstrate,  if  Mr.  Carmichael 
will  allow  me  to  say  so." 

Carmichael  looked  at  Bonner,  made  an  ex 
pressive  motion  with  his  head  toward  the  door, 
and  turned  as  if  to  leave. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  can  do  plenty  of  busi 
ness  with  men.  If  you  men  want  to  make  the 
deal  I  offer  you,  and  I  can  show  you  from  the 
statistics  I've  got  at  the  hotel  that  it's  a  spe 
cial  deal  just  to  get  started  in  this  part  of  the 
state,  and  carries  a  thousand  dollars  of  cut  in 
price  to  you.  Let's  leave  these  children  and 
this  he  school-ma'am  and  get  something  done." 

"I  can't  allow  you  to  depart,"  said  Jim  more 
gently  than  before,  "without  thanking  you  for 
the  very  excellent  talk  you  gave  us  on  the  ad 
vantage  of  the  cooperative  creamery  over  the 
centralizer.  We  in  this  school  believe  in  the 
cooperative  creamery,  and  if  we  can  get  rid 
of  you,  Mr.  Carmichael,  without  buying  your 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        285 

equipment,  I  think  your  work  here  may  be  pro 
ductive  of  good." 

"He's  off  three  or  four  points  on  the  average 
overrun  in  the  Wisconsin  co-ops,"  said  Newton. 

"And  we  thought,"  said  Mary  Smith,  "that 
we'd  need  more  cows  than  he  said  to  keep  up 
a  creamery  of  our  own." 

"Oh,"  replied  Jim,  "but  we  mustn't  expect 
Mr.  Carmichael  to  know  the  subject  as  well  as 
we  do,  children.  He  makes  a  practise  of  talk 
ing  mostly  to  people  who  know  nothing  about 
it — and  he  talks  very  well.  All  in  favor  of 
thanking  Mr.  Carmichael  please  say  'Aye/ ' 

There  was  a  rousing  chorus  of  "Aye!"  in 
which  Mr.  Carmichael,  followed  closely  by  Mr. 
Bonner,  made  his  exit.  B.  B.  Hamm  went  for 
ward  and  shook  Jim's  hand  slowly  and  con 
templatively,  as  if  trying  to  remember  just 
what  he  should  say. 

"James  E.  Irwin,"  said  he,  "you've  saved  us 
from  being  skinned  by  the  smoothest  grafter 
that  I  ever  seen." 

"Not  I,"  said  Jim;  "the  kind  of  school  I 
stand  for,  Mr.  Hamm,  will  save  you  more  than 


286  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

that — and  give  you  the  broadest  culture  any 
school  ever  gave.  A  culture  based  on  life. 
We've  been  studying  life,  in  this  school — the 
life  we  all  live  here  in  this  district." 

"He  had  a  smooth  partner,  too,"  said  Co 
lumbus  Brown.  Jim  looked  at  Bonner's  little 
boy  in  one  of  the  front  seats  and  shook  his 
head  at  Columbus  warningly. 

"If  I  hadn't  herded  'em  in  here  to  ask  you 
a  few  questions  about  cooperative  creameries," 
said  Mr.  Talcott,  "we'd  have  been  stuck — they 
pretty  near  had  our  names.  And  then  the 
whole  neighborhood  would  have  been  sucked  in 
for  about  fifty  dollars  a  name." 

"I'd  have  gone  in  for  two  hundred,"  said 
B.  B.  Hamm. 

"May  I  call  a  little  meeting  here  for  a  min 
ute,  Jim?"  asked  Ezra  Bronson.  "Why,  where's 
he  gone?" 

"They's  some  other  visitors  come  in,"  said  a 
little  girl,  pulling  her  apron  in  embarrassment 
at  the  teacher's  absence. 

Jim  had,  after  what  seemed  to  Jennie  an 
interminable  while,  seen  the  county  superin 
tendent  and  her  distinguished  party,  and  wai 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        287 

now  engaged  in  welcoming  them  and  endeav 
oring  to  find  them  seats, — quite  an  impossible 
thing  at  that  particular  moment,  by  the  way. 

"Don't  mind  us,  Mr.  Irwin,"  said  Doctor 
Brathwayt.  "This  is  the  best  thing  we've  seen 
on  our  journeyings.  Please  go  on  with  the 
proceedings.  That  gentleman  seems  to  have  in 
mind  the  perfectin'  of  some  so't  of  organiza 
tion.  I'm  intensely  interested." 

"I'd  like  to  call  a  little  meetin'  here,"  said 
Ezra  to  the  teacher.  "Seein'  we've  busted  up 
your  program  so  far,  may  we  take  a  little  while 
longer?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Jim.  "The  school  will 
please  come  to  order." 

The  pupils  took  their  seats,  straightened 
their  books  and  papers,  and  were  at  attention. 
Doctor  Brathwayt  nodded  approvingly  as  if  at 
the  answer  to  some  question  in  his  mind. 

"Children,"  said  Mr.  Irwin,  "you  may  or  may 
not  be  interested  in  what  these  gentlemen  are 
about  to  do — but  I  hope  you  are.  Those  who 
wish  may  be  members  of  Mr.  Bronson's  meet 
ing.  Those  who  do  not  prefer  to  do  so  may 
take  up  their  regular  work." 


288  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Bronson  to  the  re 
mains  of  Mr.  CarmichaePs  creamery  party, 
"we've  been  cutting  bait  in  this  neighborhood 
about  long  enough.  I'm  in  favor  of  fishing, 
now.  It  would  have  been  the  biggest  disgrace 
ever  put  on  this  district  to  have  been  swindled 
by  that  sharper,  when  the  man  that  could  have 
set  us  right  on  the  subject  was  right  here  work 
ing  for  us,  and  we  never  let  him  have  a  chance. 
And  yet  that's  what  we  pretty  near  did.  How 
many  here  favor  building  a  cooperative  cream 
ery  if  we  can  get  the  farmers  in  with  cows 
enough  to  make  it  profitable,  and  the  equip 
ment  at  the  right  price?" 

Each  man  held  up  a  hand. 

"Here's  one  of  our  best  farmers  not  voting," 
said  Mr.  Bronson,  indicating  Raymond  Simms. 
"How  about  you,  Raymond?" 

"Ah  reckon  paw'll  come  in,"  said  Raymond 
blushingly. 

"He  will  if  you  say  so,"  said  Mr.  Bronson. 

Raymond's  hand  went  up  amid  a  ripple  of 
applause  from  the  pupils,  who  seemed  glad  to 
have  a  voter  in  their  ranks. 

"Unanimous!"  said  Mr.  Bronson.     "It  is  a 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        289 

vote !  Now  I'd  like  to  hear  a  motion  to  perfect 
a  permanent  organization  to  build  a  cream 
ery." 

"I  think  we  ought  to  have  a  secretary  first," 
said  Mr.  Talcott,  "and  I  nominate  Mr.  James 
E.  Irwin  for  the  post." 

"Quite  correct,"  said  Mr.  Bronson,  "thankee, 
A.  B.  I  was  about  to  forgit  the  secretary.  Any 
other  nominations?  No  Abjections,  Mr.  Irwin 
will  be  declared  unanimously  elected.  Mr.  Ir- 
win's  elected.  Mr.  Irwin,  will  you  please  as 
sume  the  duties?" 

Jim  sat  down  at  the  desk  and  began  making 
notes. 

"I  think  we  ought  to  call  this  the  Anti-Car- 
michael  Protective  Association,"  said  Columbus 
Brown,  but  Mr.  Bronson  interrupted  him, 
rather  frowningly. 

"All  in  good  time,  dumb,"  said  he,  "but  this 
is  serious  work."  So  admonished,  the  meeting 
appointed  committees,  fixed  upon  a  time  for  a 
future  meeting,  threw  a  collection  of  half-dol 
lars  on  the  desk  to  start  a  petty  cash  fund, 
made  the  usual  joke  about  putting  the  secre 
tary  under  bond,  adjourned  and  dispersed. 


290  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"It's  a  go  this  time !"  said  Newton  to  Jim. 

"I  think  so,"  said  Jim,  "with  those  men  in 
terested.  Well,  our  study  of  creameries  has 
given  a  great  deal  of  language  work,  a  good 
deal  of  arithmetic,  some  geography,  and  finally 
saved  the  people  from  a  swindle.  Rather  good 
work,  Raymond!" 

"My  mother  has  a  delayed  luncheon  ready 
for  the  party,"  said  Jennie  to  Jim.  "Please 
come  with  us — please!" 

But  Jim  demurred.  Getting  off  at  this  time 
of  day  was  really  out  of  the  question  if  he  was 
to  be  ready  to  show  the  real  work  of  the  school 
in  the  afternoon  session. 

"This  has  been  rather  extraordinary,"  said 
Jim,  "but  I  am  very  glad  you  were  here.  It 
shows  the  utility  of  the  right  sort  of  work  in 
letter-writing,  language,  geography  and  arith 
metic — in  learning  things  about  farming." 

"It  certainly  does,"  said  Doctor  Brathwayt. 
"I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  under  any  con 
sideration;  but  I'm  certainly  sorry  for  that 
creamery  shark  and  his  accomplice — to  be 
routed  by  the  Fifth  Reader  grade  in  farming !" 

The  luncheon  was  rather  a  wonderful  affair 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        291 

— and  its  success  was  unqualified  after  every 
body  discovered  that  the  majority  of  those  in 
attendance  felt  much  more  at  home  when  call 
ing  it  dinner.  Colonel  Woodruff  had  fought 
against  the  regiment  of  the  father  of  Profes 
sor  Gray,  of  Georgia,  in  at  least  one  engage 
ment,  and  tentative  plans  were  laid  for  the 
meeting  of  the  two  old  veterans  "some  winter 
in  the  future." 

"What  d'ye  think  of  our  school?"  asked  the 
colonel. 

"Well,"  said  Professor  Gray,  "it's  not  fair  to 
judge,  Colonel,  on  what  must  have  been  rather 
an  extraordinary  moment  in  the  school's  his 
tory.  I  take  it  that  you  don't  put  on  a  rep 
resentation  of  The  Knave  Unmasked"  every 
morning." 

"It  was  more  like  a  caucus  than  I've  ever 
seen  it,  daddy,"  said  Jennie,  "and  less  like  a 
school." 

"Don't  you  think,"  said  Doctor  Brathwayt, 
"that  it  was  less  like  a  school  because  it  was 
more  like  life?  It  was  life.  If  I  am  not  mis 
taken,  history  for  this  community  was  making 
in  that  schoolroom  as  we  entered." 


292  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"You're  perfectly  right,  Doctor,"  said  the 
colonel.  "Columbus  Brown  and  about  a  dozen 
others  living  outside  the  district  are  calling 
Wilbur  Smythe  in  counsel  to  perfect  plans  for 
an  election  to  consolidate  a  few  of  these  little 
independent  districts,  for  the  express  purpose 
of  giving  Jim  Irwin  a  plant  that  he  can  do 
something  with.  Jim's  got  too  big  for  the  dis 
trict,  and  so  we're  going  to  enlarge  the  district, 
and  the  schoolhouse,  and  tne  teaching  force, 
and  the  means  of  educational  grace  generally. 
That's  as  sure  as  can  be — after  what  took  place 
this  morning." 

"He's  rather  a  wonderful  person,  to  be  found 
in  such  a  position,"  said  Professor  Gray,  "or 
would  be  in  any  region  I  have  visited." 

"He's  a  native  product,"  said  the  colonel, 
"but  a  wonder  all  the  same.  He's  a  Brown 
Mouse,  you  know." 

"A — a — ?"  Doctor  Brathwayt  was  plainly 
astonished.  And  so  the  colonel  was  allowed  to 
tell  again  the  story  of  the  Darbishire  brown 
mice,  and  why  he  called  Jim  Irwin  one.  Doc 
tor  Brathwayt  said  it  was  an  interesting  Men- 
delian  explanation  of  the  appearance  of  such 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  DIXIE        293 

a  character  as  Jim.  "And  if  you  are  right, 
Colonel,  you'll  lose  him  one  of  these  days.  You 
can't  expect  to  retain  a  Caesar,  a  Napoleon,  or 
a  Lincoln  in  a  rural  school,  can  you?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  colonel. 
"The  great  opportunity  for  such  a  Brown 
Mouse  may  be  in  this  very  school,  right  now. 
He'd  have  as  big  an  army  right  here  as  Socra 
tes  ever  had.  The  Brown  Mouse  is  the  only 
judge  of  his  own  proper  place." 

"I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Brathwayt,  as  they  mo 
tored  back  to  the  school,  "that  your  country 
schoolmaster  is  rather  terrible.  The  way  he 
crushed  that  Mr.  Carmichael  was  positively 
merciless.  Did  he  know  how  cruel  he  was?" 

"I  think  not,"  said  Jennie.  "It  was  the  truth 
that  crushed  Mr.  Carmichael." 

"But  that  vote  of  thanks,"  said  Mrs.  Brath 
wayt.  "Surely  that  was  the  bitterest  irony." 

"I  wonder  if  it  was,"  said  Jennie.  "No,  I 
am  sure  it  wasn't.  He  wanted  to  leave  the  chil 
dren  thinking  as  well  as  possible  of  their  vic 
tim,  and  especially  of  Mr.  Bonner;  and  there 
was  really  something  in  Mr.  Carmichael's  talk 
which  could  be  praised.  I  have  known  Jim  Ir- 


294  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

win  since  we  were  both  children,  and  I  feel 
sure  that  if  he  had  had  any  idea  that  his  treat 
ment  of  this  man  had  been  unnecessarily  cruel, 
it  would  have  given  him  a  lot  of  pain." 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Brathwayt,  "I  think 
you  are  to  be  congratulated  for  having  known 
for  a  long  time  a  genius." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Jennie.  And  Mrs.  Brath 
wayt  gave  her  a  glance  which  brought  to  her 
cheek  another  blush;  but  of  a  different  sort 
from  the  one  provoked  by  the  uproar  in  the 
Woodruff  school. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  now  that  Jim  was 
thoroughly  wonderful — nor  that  she,  the  county 
superintendent,  was  quite  as  thoroughly  a  little 
fool.  She  to  be  put  in  authority  over  him! 
It  was  too  absurd  for  laughter.  Fortunately, 
she  hadn't  hindered  him  much — but  who  was 
to  be  thanked  for  that?  Was  it  owing  to  any 
wisdom  of  hers?  Well,  she  had  decided  in  his 
favor,  in  those  first  proceedings  to  revoke  his 
certificate.  Perhaps  that  was  as  good  a  thing 
to  remember  as  was  to  be  found  in  the  record. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AND  SO  THEY  LIVED • 

AND  so  it  turned  out  quite  as  if  it  were  in 
the  old  ballad,  that  "all  in  the  merry 
month  of  May,"  and  also  "all  in  the  merry  green 
wood,"  there  were  great  doings  about  the  bold 
little  promontory  where  once  stood  the  cabin 
on  the  old  wood-lot  where  the  Simms  family 
had  dwelt.  The  brook  ran  about  the  promon 
tory,  and  laid  at  its  feet  on  three  sides  a  car 
pet  of  blue-grass,  amid  clumps  of  trees  and 
wild  bushes.  Not  far  afield  on  either  hand 
came  the  black  corn-land,  but  up  and  down  the 
bluffy  sides  of  the  brook  for  some  distance  on 
both  sides  of  the  King-dragged  highway,  ran 
the  old  wood-lot,  now  regaining  much  of  the 
unkempt  appearance  which  characterized  it 
when  Jira  Irwin  had  drawn  upon  himself  the 
gentle  rebuke  of  Old  Man  Simms  for  not  giv- 
295 


296  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

ing  a  whoop  from  the  big  road  before  coming 
into  the  yard. 

But  Old  Man  Simms  was  gone,  with  all  the 
Simmses,  now  thoroughly  established  on  the 
Blanchard  farm,  and  quite  happy  in  their  new 
success.  The  cabin  was  gone,  and  in  its  place 
stood  a  pretty  little  bungalow,  about  which 
blossomed  the  lilacs  and  peonies  and  roses  and 
other  old-fashioned  flowers,  planted  there  long 
ago  by  some  pioneer  woman,  nourished  back  to 
thriftiness  by  old  Mrs.  Simms,  and  carefully 
preserved  during  the  struggles  with  the  build 
ers  of  the  bungalow  by  Mrs.  Irwin.  For  this 
was  Mrs.  Irwin's  new  home.  It  was,  in  point 
of  fact,  the  teacher's  house  or  schoolmanse  for 
the  new  consolidated  Woodruff  District,  and 
the  old  Simms  wood-lot  was  the  glebe-land  of 
the  schoolmanse. 

Jim  turned  over  and  over  in  his  mind  these 
new  applications  of  old,  historic,  significant 
words,  dear  to  every  reader  of  history — "glebe- 
land,"  "schoolmanse" — and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  they  signified  the  return  of  many  old 
things  lost  in  Merrie  England,  lost  in  New  Eng 
land,  lost  all  over  the  English-speaking  world, 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 297 

when  the  old  publicly-paid  clergyman  ceased 
to  be  so  far  the  servant  of  all  the  people  that 
they  refused  to  be  taxed  for  his  support.  Was 
not  the  new  kind  of  rural  teacher  to  be  a  pub 
licly-paid  leader  of  thought,  of  culture,  of  prog 
ress,  and  was  he  not  to  have  his  manse,  his 
glebe-land,  and  his  "living"?  And  all  because, 
like  the  old  clergymen,  he  was  doing  a  work 
in  which  everybody  was  interested  and  for 
which  they  were  willing  to  be  taxed.  Perhaps 
it  was  not  so  high  a  status  as  the  old ;  but  who 
was  to  say  that?  Certainly  not  Jim  Irwin,  the 
possessor  of  the  new  kind  of  "living,"  with  its 
"glebe-land"  and  its  "schoolmanse."  He  would 
have  rated  the  new  quite  as  high  as  the  old. 

From  the  brow  of  the  promontory,  a  light 
concrete  bridge  took  the  pretty  little  gorge  in 
the  leap  of  a  single  arch,  and  landed  the  eye 
at  the  bottom  of  the  front  yard  of  the  school- 
house.  Thus  the  new  institution  of  life  was 
in  full  view  of  the  schoolmanse  veranda,  and 
yet  shut  off  from  it  by  the  dry  moat  of  the 
brook  and  its  tiny  meadow  of  blue-grass. 

Across  the  road  was  the  creamery,  with  its 
businesslike  unloading  platform,  and  its  addi- 


298  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

tion  in  process  of  construction  for  the  recep 
tion  of  the  machinery  for  the  cooperative 
laundry.  Not  far  from  the  creamery,  and  also 
across  the  road,  stood  the  blacksmith  and 
wheelwright  shop.  Still  farther  down  the 
stream  were  the  barn,  poultry  house,  pens, 
hutches  and  yards  of  the  little  farm — small, 
economically  made,  and  unpretentious,  as  were 
all  the  buildings  save  the  schoolhouse  itself, 
which  was  builded  for  the  future. 

And  even  the  schoolhouse,  when  one  thinks 
of  the  uses  to  which  it  was  to  be  put — kitchen, 
nursery,  kindergarten,  banquet-hall,  theater, 
moving-picture  hall,  classrooms,  manual  train 
ing  rooms,  laboratory  and  counting-room  and 
what-not,  was  wonderfully  small  —  Colonel 
Woodruff  said  far  too  small — though  it  was 
necessarily  so  large  as  to  be  rather  astonishing 
to  the  unexpectant  passer-by. 

The  unexpectant  passer-by  this  May  day, 
however,  would  have  been  especially  struck  by 
the  number  of  motor-cars,  buggies  and  surreys 
parked  in  the  yard  back  of  the  creamery,  along 
the  roadside,  and  by  the  driveway  running  to 
the  schoolhouse.  People  in  numbers  had  ar- 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 299 

rived  by  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  were 
still  coming.  They  strolled  about  the  place, 
examining  the  buildings  and  grounds,  and  talk 
ing  with  the  blacksmith  and  the  butter-makerv 
gradually  drawing  into  the  schoolhouse  like  a 
swarm  of  bees  into  a  hive  selected  by  the 
queen.  None  of  them,  however,  went  across 
the  concrete  bridge  to  the  schoolmanse,  save 
Mrs.  Simms,  who  crossed,  consulted  with  Mrs. 
Irwin  about  the  shrubbery  and  flowers,  and 
went  back  to  Buddie  and  Jinnie,  who  were  good 
children  but  natchally  couldn't  be  trusted  with 
so  many  other  young  ones  withouten  some 
watchin'. 

"They're  coming!  They're  coming!" 
This  was  the  cry  borne  to  the  people  in  and 
about  the  schoolhouse  by  that  Hans  Hansen 
who  would  be  called  Hans  Nilsen.  Hans  had 
been  to  the  top  of  the  little  hill  and  had  a  look 
toward  town.  Like  a  crew  manning  the  rig 
ging,  or  a  crowd  having  its  picture  taken,  the 
assemblage  crystallized  into  forms  determined 
by  the  chances  of  getting  a  glimpse  of  the  bun 
galow  across  the  ravine — on  posts,  fences, 
trees  and  hillocks.  Still  nobody  went  across 


300  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  bridge,  and  when  McGeehee  Simms  and 
Johnny  Bonner  strayed  to  the  bridge-head, 
Mrs.  Simms  called  them  back  by  a  minatory, 
"Buddy,  what  did  I  tell  you?  You  come  hyah !" 
A  motor-car  came  over  the  hillock,  ran  down 
the  road  to  the  driveway  to  the  schoolmanse 
and  drew  up  at  the  door.  Out  of  it  stepped 
Mrs.  Woodruff  and  the  colonel,  their  daughter, 
the  county  superintendent  of  schools,  and  Mr. 
Jim  Irwin.  Jennie  was  dressed  in  a  very  well- 
tailored  traveling  costume,  and  Jim  in  a  mod 
erately  well-tailored  business  suit.  Mrs.  Irwin 
kissed  her  son  and  Jennie,  and  led  the  way  into 
the  house.  Jennie  and  Jim  followed — and 
when  they  went  in,  the  crowd  over  across  the 
ravine  burst  forth  into  a  tremendous  cheer, 
followed  by  a  three-times-three  and  a  tiger. 
The  unexpectant  passer-by  would  have  been 
rather  surprised  at  this,  but  we  who  are  ac 
quainted  with  the  parties  must  all  begin  to 
have  our  suspicions.  The  fact  that  when  they 
reached  the  threshold  Jim  picked  Jennie  up  in 
his  arms  and  carried  her  in,  will  enable  any 
good  detective  to  put  one  and  one  together  and 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 301 

make  a  pair — which  comes  pretty  near  telling 
the  whole  story. 

By  this  time  it  was  nearly  seven,  and  Calista 
Simms  came  across  the  charmed  bridge  as  a 
despatch-bearer,  saying  that  if  Mr.  Jim  and 
Miss  Jennie  didn't  mind,  dinner  would  be 
suhved  right  soon.  It  was  cooked  about  right, 
and  the  folks  was  gettin'  right  hungry — an' 
such  a  crowd!  There  were  fifteen  in  the 
babies'  room,  and  for  a  while  they  thought  the 
youngest  Hamm  young  one  had  swallowed  a 
marble.  She  would  tell  'em  they  would  be  right 
over;  good-by. 

There  was  another  cheer  as  the  three  elderly 
and  the  two  young  people  emerged  from  the 
schoolmanse  and  took  their  way  over  the 
bridge  to  the  school  side  of  the  velvet-bottomed 
moat;  but  it  did  not  terminate  in  three-times- 
three  and  a  tiger.  It  was,  in  fact  shut  off  like 
the  vibration  of  a  bell  dipped  in  water  by  the 
sudden  rush  of  the  shouters  into  the  big  assem 
bly-room,  now  filled  with  tables  for  the  ban 
quet — and  here  the  domestic  economy  classes, 
with  their  mothers,  sisters,  female  cousins  and 


302  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

aunts,  met  them,  as  waiters,  hat-snatchers, 
hostesses,  floor-managers  and  cooks,  scoring 
the  greatest  triumph  of  history  in  the  Wood 
ruff  District.  For  everything  went  off  like 
clockwork,  especially  the  victuals — and  such 
victuals ! 

There  was  quantity  in  meats,  breads,  vege 
tables — and  there  was  also  savor.  There  was 
plenty,  and  there  was  style.  Ask  Mrs.  Haakon 
Peterson,  who  yearned  for  culture,  and  had 
been  afraid  her  children  wouldn't  get  it  if  Yim 
Irwin  taught  them  nothing  but  farming.  She 
will  tell  you  that  the  dinner — which  so  many 
thought  of  all  the  time  as  supper — was  yust 
as  wrell  served  as  it  if  had  been  in  the  Cham 
berlain  Hotel  in  Des  Moines,  where  she  had 
stayed  when  she  went  with  Haakon  to  the 
state  convention. 

Why  shouldn't  it  have  been  even  better 
served?  It  was  planned,  cooked,  served  and 
eaten  by  people  of  intelligence  and  brains,  in 
their  own  house,  as  a  community  affair,  and 
in  a  community  where,  if  any  one  should  ask 
you,  you  are  authorized  to  state  that  there's  as 
much  wealth  to  the  acre  as  in  any  strictly  farm- 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 303 

ing  spot  between  the  two  oceans,  and  where 
you  are  perfectly  safe — financially — in  drop 
ping  from  a  balloon  in  the  dark  of  the  moon, 
and  paying  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  an  acre 
for  any  farm  you  happen  to  land  on.  Why 
shouldn't  things  have  been  well  done,  when 
every  one  worked,  not  for  money,  but  for  the 
love  of  the  doing,  and  the  love  of  learning  to 
do  in  the  best  way? 

Some  of  these  things  came  out  in  the 
speeches  following  the  repast — and  some  other 
things,  too.  It  was  probably  not  quite  fair  for 
B.  B.  Hamm  to  incorporate  in  his  wishes  for 
the  welfare  and  prosperity  and  so  forth  of  Jim 
and  Jennie  that  stale  one  about  the  troubles 
of  life,  but  he  wanted  to  see  Jennie  blush — 
which  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  did;  but  she 
failed  to  grow  quite  so  fiery  red  as  did  Jim. 
But  B.  B.  was  a  good  fellow,  and  a  Trojan  in 
his  work  for  the  cause,  and  the  schoolmaster 
and  superintendent  of  schools  forgave  him.  A 
remark  may  be  a  little  broad,  and  still  clean, 
and  B.  B.  made  a  clean  speech  mainly  devoted 
to  the  increased  value  of  that  farm  he  at  one 


304  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

memorable  time  was  going  to  sell  before  Jim's 
fool  notions  could  be  carried  out. 

Colonel  Woodruff  made  most  of  the  above 
points  which  I  have  filched  from  him.  He  had 
begun  as  a  reformer  late  in  life,  he  said,  but 
he  would  leave  it  to  them  if  he  hadn't  worked 
at  the  trade  steadily  after  enlistment.  He  had 
become  a  follower  of  Jim  Irwin,  because  Jim's 
reform  was  like  dragging  the  road  in  front  of 
your  own  farm — it  was  reform  right  at  home, 
and  not  at  the  county  seat,  or  Des  Moines,  or 
Washington.  He  had  followed  Jim  Irwin  as  he 
had  followed  Lincoln,  and  Grant,  and  Elaine, 
and  McKinley — because  Jim  Irwin  stood  for 
more  upward  growth  for  the  average  Ameri 
can  citizen  than  the  colonel  could  see  any  pros 
pect  of  getting  from  any  other  choice.  And 
he  was  proud  to  live  in  a  country  like  this, 
saved  and  promoted  by  the  great  men  he  had 
followed,  and  in  a  neighborhood  served  and 
promoted,  if  not  quite  saved,  by  Jim  Irwin. 
And  he  was  not  so  sure  about  its  not  being 
saved.  Every  man  and  nation  had  to  be  saved 
anew  every  so  often,  and  the  colonel  believed 
that  Jim  Irwin's  new  kind  of  rural  school  is 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 305 

just  as  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  this  coun 
try  as  Lincoln's  new  kind  of  recognition  of 
human  rights  was  half  a  century  ago.  "I  am 
about  to  close  my  speech,"  said  the  colonel, 
"and  the  small  service  I  have  been  able  to  give 
to  this  nation.  I  went  through  the  war,  neigh 
bors — and  am  proud  of  it;  but  I've  done  more 
good  in  the  peaceful  service  of  the  last  three 
years  than  I  did  in  four  of  fighting  and  cam 
paigning.  That's  the  way  I  feel  about  what 
we've  done  in  Consolidated  District  Number 
One."  (Vociferous  and  long-continued  ap 
plause.) 

"Oh,  Colonel!"  The  voice  of  Angie  Talcott 
rose  from  away  back  near  the  kitchen.  "Can 
Jennie  keep  on  bein'  county  superintendent, 
now  she's  married?" 

A  great  guffaw  of  laughter  reduced  poor 
Angie  to  tears ;  and  Jennie  had  to  go  over  and 
comfort  her.  It  was  all  right  for  her  to  ask 
that,  and  they  ought  not  to  laugh  at  Angie,  so 
there!  Now,  you're  all  right,  and  let's  talk 
about  the  new  schoolhouse,  and  so  forth.  Jen 
nie  brought  the  smiles  back  to  Angie's  face, 
just  in  time  to  hear  Jim  tell  the  people  amid 
louder  cheers  that  he  had  been  asked  to  go  into 


306  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

the  rural-school  extension  work  in  two  states, 
and  had  been  offered  a  fine  salary  in  either 
place,  but  that  he  wasn't  even  considering  these 
offers.  And  about  that  time,  the  children  be 
gan  to  get  sleepy  and  cross  and  naughty,  and 
the  women  set  in  motion  the  agencies  which 
moved  the  crowd  homeward. 
•  ••••••••• 

Before  a  bright  wood  fire — which  they  really 
didn't  need,  but  how  else  was  Jim's  mother  to 
show  off  the  little  fireplace? — sat  Jim  and  Jen 
nie.  They  had  been  together  for  a  week  now 
— this  being  their  homecoming — and  had  only 
begun  to  get  really  happy. 

"Isn't  it  fine  to  have  the  fireplace?"  said 
Jennie. 

"Yes,  but  we  can't  really  afford  to  burn  a  fire 
in  it — in  Iowa,"  said  Jim.  "Fuel's  too  ever 
lastingly  scarce.  If  we  use  it  much,  the  fagots 
and  deadwood  on  our  'glebe-land'  won't  last 
long." 

"If  you  should  take  that  Oklahoma  position," 
said  Jennie,  "we  could  afford  to  have  open  wood 
fires  all  the  time." 

"It's  warmer  in  Oklahoma,"  said  Jim,  "and 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 307 

wood's  more  plentiful.  Yes" — contemplatively 
— "we  could,  dear." 

"It  would  be  nice,  wouldn't  it?"  said  Jennie. 

"All  right,"  said  Jim  briskly,  "get  me  my 
writing  materials,  and  we'll  accept.  It's  still 
open." 

Jennie  sat  looking  into  the  fire  oblivious  of 
the  suggestion.  She  was  smiling.  Jim  moved 
uneasily,  and  rose. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  believe  I  can  better  guess 
where  mother  would  put  those  writing  mate 
rials  than  you  could,  after  all.  I'll  hunt  them 
up." 

As  he  passed,  Jennie  took  him  by  the  hand 
and  pulled  him  down  on  the  arm  of  her  chair. 

"Jim,"  she  said,  "don't  be  mean  to  me !  You 
know  you  wouldn't  do  such  a  wicked,  wicked 
thing  at  this  time  as  to  leave  the  people  here." 

"All  right,"  said  Jim,  "whatever  you  say  is 
the  law." 

When  Jennie  spoke  again  things  had  taken 
place  which  caused  her  voice  to  emanate  from 
Jim's  shirt-front. 

"Did  you  hear,"  said  she,  "what  Angie  Tal- 
cott  asked?" 


308  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

"M'h'm,"  said  Jim. 

"Well,"  said  Jennie,  "now  that  Fm  married 
can  I  go  on  being  county  superintendent?" 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"Would  you  like  to?"  asked  Jim. 

"Kind  of,"  said  Jennie;  "if  I  knew  enough 
about  things  to  do  anything  worth  while;  but 
I'm  afraid  that  by  rising  to  my  full  height  I 
shall  always  just  fail  to  be  able  to  see  over 
anything." 

"You've  done  more  for  the  schools  of  the 
county,"  said  Jim,  "in  the  last  year  than  any 
other  county  superintendent  has  ever  done." 

"And  we  shall  need  the  money  so  like — so 
like  the  dickens,"  said  Jennie. 

"Oh,  not  so  badly,"  laughed  Jim,  "except  for 
the  first  year.  I'll  have  this  little  farm  paying 
as  much  as  some  quarter-sections  when  we  get 
squared  about.  Why,  we  can  make  a  living  on 
this  school  farm,  Jennie, — or  I'm  not  fit  to  be 
the  head  of  the  school." 

There  was  another  silence,  during  which 
Jennie  took  down  her  hair,  and  wound  it 
around  Jim's  neck. 


AND  SO  THEY  LIVED 309 

"It  will  settle  itself  soon  one  of  these  days 
anyhow,"  said  he  at  last.  "There's  enough  to 
do  for  both  of  us  right  here." 

"But  they  won't  pay  me,"  she  protested. 

"They  don't  pay  the  ministers'  wives,"  said 
Jim,  "and  yet,  the  ministers  with  the  right  sort 
of  wives  are  always  the  best  paid.  I  guess 
you'll  be  in  the  bill,  Jennie." 

Jim  walked  to  the  open  window  and  looked 
out  over  the  still  landscape.  The  untidy  grounds 
appealed  to  him — there  would  be  lessons  in 
their  improvement  for  both  the  children  and 
the  older  people.  It  was  all  good.  Down  in 
the  little  meadow  grew  the  dreaming  trees, 
their  round  crowns  rising  as  from  a  sea  not 
quite  to  the  level  of  the  bungalow,  their  thrifty 
leaves  glistening  in  the  moonlight.  Across 
the  pretty  bridge  lay  the  silent  little  campus 
with  its  twentieth-century  temple  facing  its 
chief  priest.  It  was  all  good,  without  and 
within.  He  went  across  the  hall  to  bid  his 
mother  good  night.  She  clung  to  him  convul 
sively,  and  they  had  their  own  five  minutes 
which  arranged  matters  for  these  two  silent 


310  THE  BROWN  MOUSE 

natures  on  the  new  basis  forever.  Jennie  was 
in  white  before  the  mantel  when  he  returned, 
smiling  at  the  inscription  thereon. 

"Why  didn't  you  put  it  in  Latin?"  she  in 
quired.  "It  would  have  had  so  much  more  dis 
tinction." 

"I  wanted  it  to  have  meaning  instead,"  said 
Jim.  "And  besides,  nobody  who  was  at  hand 
was  quite  sure  how  to  turn  the  Latin  phrase. 
Are  you?" 

Jennie  leaned  forward  with  her  elbows  on 
her  knees,  and  studied  it. 

"I  believe  I  could,"  said  she,  "without  any 
pony.  But  after  all,  I  like  it  better  as  it  is. 
I  like  everything,  Jim — everything!" 

"LET  US  CEASE  THINKING  SO  MUCH 
OF  AGRICULTURAL  EDUCATION,  AND 
DEVOTE  OURSELVES  TO  EDUCATIONAL 
AGRICULTURE.  SO  WILL  THE  NATION 
BE  MADE  STRONG." 


THE  END 


